Madness
by DeDe324
Summary: 'I, I can't get these memories out of my mind…and some kind of madness has started to evolve…and I, I tried so hard to let you go…but some kind of madness is swallowing me whole…' What happens when you have to choose between what you've always wanted and what you never knew you needed? Rated M for violence, language, and eventual smut.
1. Explosions

**Author's Note: **So, after writing 'Coming Home', I really wanted to dig into the character of Shelby and develop her story in the SOA world. Needless to say, she took me in quite a different direction than I anticipated, pulling my boy Tig into the mix. This story isn't anywhere close to finished, but I seem to be going at a decent clip, hopefully it stays that way. This is pretty much AU after the season 1 finale, so obviously there will be differences from the show. I'm really not following that storyline at all. _  
><em>

**Disclaimer:**I have no claim to SOA, Opie, Tig, etc. Those rights belong to Kurt Sutter, Ryan Hurst, Kim Coates, etc. But thank you to them for bringing them to my life, ha. 'Madness' belongs to Muse, 'Explosions' to Ellie Goulding. All I can truly lay claim to is Shelby.

**_'Explosions… on the day you wake up needing somebody and you've learned… it's okay to be afraid… but it will never be the same...'_**

She was _gone…_

Opie cradled his head in his hands, hands that he didn't think would ever be washed of Donna's blood, no matter how many times he ran them under scalding hot water. He could feel the stain on his skin, collecting under dirty nails. He had never meant for it to come to this. He had known how dangerous it could be for both Donna and the kids… all with his involvement in SAMCRO…

"Donna," he bit out, his voice low. God, he missed her. She'd stood by him for all this time, even staying with him while he'd been in prison for 5 years no matter how much he'd tried to push her away, how many times he told her to take the kids and not look back. And this was how she was repaid.

"God DAMMIT!" he shouted, slamming his fist into the wall, barely noticing the crack he left in the plaster. He fell to the floor at the foot of his bed… their bed… His hands fisted in his hair and he squeezed his eyes shut trying to stop the burning of tears and the influx of memories.

Why _her_? Why did _she _have to be the one to die? It should have been him… He'd always known that he probably wouldn't last all that long, not with the decisions he was forced to make, the lifestyle he'd been born into. He often thought it was a miracle Piney was still kicking around after all these years.

But not Donna. Donna was supposed to be the one to grow old, take care of their children. They'd talked about it, the 'what if' game that parents tended to play. But they'd never considered that she would go before he would, that he would be the one that the kids were left with. Why would they? She had still been so young… good health… took care of herself. And he had tried _**so hard**_ to keep her separate from his life of violence. He loved his club, but he loved her and the kids just as much, if not more. He'd tried to protect them.

But he'd failed. He'd failed her. He'd failed their children. He'd broken every promise he'd ever made to her as soon as that first bullet penetrated her skull…

He curled up on the floor, hugging his knees to his chest, trying to push the pain away. He knew Donna wouldn't want to see him like this, that she'd expect him to be stronger. If not for himself, then for Kenny and Ellie.

But he couldn't even _look_ at them… not when Ellie had Donna's eyes… when Kenny gave him Donna's smile… What kind of father was he that he couldn't even look at his own children? He squeezed his eyes shut, screwing them so tight that all he could see were fractures of light behind his eyelids...

"_Opie_!"

Slowly he opened his eyes, shocked to find the room covered in darkness as he rolled to his back, his eyes on the ceiling. Was the day already over? What day _was _it, now that he thought about it? Since seeing Donna's body, he'd lost track of time...

"Hey, Op! You in here?"

He could hear Jax's voice, but he couldn't bring himself to respond, didn't really see the point. Maybe if he stayed quiet, Jax would go, leave him to mourn…

Opie shifted, letting out a quiet grunt. He noticed his back was stiff. He was getting too old to lay on the floor like this. But he refused to move, give himself any sort of relief. He _deserved _this pain, this discomfort. If anything, he deserved a hell of a lot more misery than what he had gotten. He should be forced to suffer...

"Opie..."

Jax's footsteps moved across the carpet and Opie saw the familiar scuffed white shoes out of the corner of his eye. He heard the shifting of denim and leather as his best friend crouched down, his hand gently resting on his shoulder. "How are you?" Jax asked quietly, cautiously, though they both already knew the answer.

Opie blinked, his eyes still frozen on the ceiling. "I killed her," he muttered, a tear falling from his eye.

Jax let out a sigh and sprawled on the carpet next to his oldest friend. "You didn't pull that trigger," he replied, folding his hands on his chest. "It wasn't your _fault_, Op. You gotta stop blamin' yourself. Isn't good for you or the kids."

Opie shook his head, pressing the heels of his hands to his eyes. "I should've been in the truck…" he choked out.

The blond really didn't know what to say. He couldn't blame Opie for tearing himself apart over this. He could only imagine how he himself would be acting if roles were reversed and he had just buried Tara. Just the thought made his heart hurt… losing Tara… or Abel…

Jax internally shook those thoughts from his mind. He couldn't think that way. Not when his best friend was teetering on the edge like he was and had been for the last month. He pushed himself off the floor, reaching his hand out. "C'mon."

Opie blinked up at him with bloodshot eyes. "What?"

The VP reached down and grabbed his friend by the arm, forcing him to his feet. "It's not doing you any kind of good to leave you here in this house," he reasoned, putting his arm around Opie's shoulders. "Let me get you a drink, alright?"

The taller man shook his head. "I really don't wanna see anyone, brother," he admitted. "Just want to be alone for awhile." He shrugged out from under Jax's arm.

The blond wrapped a hand around his elbow, stopping him in place. "It's been over a month," he argued. "I've given you time, you gotta get back to normal at some point."

Opie let out a sigh, his shoulders drooping. He knew Jax wouldn't leave, not until he got his way. And he always seemed to manage to get his way… Opie really didn't have the energy to fight him. He snagged his skullcap off the bedpost, tucking it over his hair and giving a shrug. "You lead," he said quietly, motioning that he would follow.

* * *

><p>Opie sat alone, his hands loosely surrounding a bottle of beer. He stared at a knot in the table, barely aware at the chatter and laughter around him. He could feel different sets of eyes watching him from different corners of the bar, but no one had really approached him since Jax dragged him into the clubhouse. He knew they didn't know what to say. It's not like any of them knew what it was like to have their wife gunned down in cold blood.<p>

He sighed, letting his nail scratch against the corner of the label on the bottle. He wasn't being fair. Everyone here understood loss. Hell, Jax had lost his father a long time ago and it wasn't like Clay had replaced JT for him. Gemma had lost a son _and _a husband. It wasn't like they hadn't all lost someone being in the club.

But they didn't know what it was like to lose _Donna_. They didn't know what it was like when Opie woke up in the morning and had to relive that she was gone all over again. When he'd open his eyes, he'd still reach towards her pillow, expecting to feel the silky strands of her hair under his fingers. But when his hand would find the cold pillowcase instead, it all came crashing back down, reminding him that Donna was long dead.

He let out a grunt, lifting his other hand to rub the back of his neck, blinking back the threat of tears. Jax was right, he had to get back to normal. But what the hell was normal anymore? Normal had been Donna, doing work around the house, making love to her in their bedroom, arguing about absolutely nothing. What did he have now to consider 'normal'?

* * *

><p>Shelby Lerner tightened her arms around her torso, staring up at the looming clubhouse. She hadn't seen this place for over a decade, but it looked just as ominous as it always had. She could hear the thumping beat inside, mixing with muted voices and laughter, the clinking of beer bottles...<p>

"You lost, sweetheart?"

The brunette glanced over her shoulder, startled by the voice. She couldn't make out much in the dark, the light illuminating behind the figure as she lifted her hand to her forehead, shielding her eyes. "I'm looking for Opie Winston," she replied. "Figured he might be here. Or someone might know where I could find him."

The man stepped forward and she couldn't help herself from giving him a once over. He looked to be an inch or two over 6'0, unkempt dark curls sprouting from his head making him seem even taller, giving him an air of menace. His eyes were covered by a pair of dark lenses, not seeming to be concerned about clear vision at this late hour. She recognized the cut, realizing that he must have been one of Opie's 'brothers'.

"Sergeant at Arms, huh?" she asked, her eyes traveling over his patch before moving back to his face, a dark eyebrow arched.

She could see the tightening around his mouth as he regarded her carefully and she imagined his eyes narrowed in scrutiny behind the glasses. "You lookin' for a ride, doll?" he asked, lighting a cigarette and tucking it into the corner of his mouth. "Don't know if you heard, but Opie's a bit out of commission these days."

Shelby wrinkled her nose and shook her head. "Well, aren't you just a charmer?" she retorted. "I just need to talk to him, that's all."

The man regarded her carefully as they stood in silence, seeming to size each other up. Slowly he reached up and lowered his sunglasses down the bridge of his nose to give her a closer look. Her breath hitched as she met his eyes, caught off guard by their unexpected intensity. They were an icy blue and she felt like he could see right through her. His mouth twitched at her reaction, but she wasn't sure if it was due to amusement or something else.

"Let me see if I can round him up for you, doll," he finally replied, sliding his glasses back into place. "You got a name I can give him?"

She swallowed. "Just tell him Shelby's looking for him," she replied, hitching her bag higher on her shoulder.

He shoved a hand in his pocket, the other pinching his cigarette, giving it a drag before pulling it from his mouth. He gave her a nod before ducking through the door, disappearing into a cloud of smoke and volume. She exhaled a breath that she hadn't known she was holding as a shiver coursed down her spine.

* * *

><p>Tig glanced around the clubhouse, his eyes settling on Opie sitting alone at a corner table, shoulders hunched. He ran a hand through his dark curls and tried to tap down the lump of guilt that had settled in his throat, a lump that seemed permanently lodged since he had to see Donna slumped over the steering column, her head bloody, her dead eyes staring at him accusingly.<p>

"Hey, Op," he called, sliding his sunglasses to the top of his head as he approached the table.

The bearded man looked up, seeming slightly surprised that Tig was even acknowledging him. "Yeah?" he croaked, clearing his throat.

Tig jabbed his thumb towards the door and jerked his chin over his shoulder. "Some gash is outside lookin' for you, asked me to come get you."

Opie shook his head. "Not in the mood to entertain some croweater or sweetbutt tonight, Tig," he replied, his blunt nail picking at the label on his beer bottle, his eyes downcast. "Little soon, don't you think?"

The darker man gave a scoff. "You think I'd be in here wastin' my time with you if it was just some fuckin' _croweater_, man? Hell, if that's all she was, I'd take care of it myself." He shook his head. "Seemed like she knew you, said her name was Shelby or some shit like that."

Opie seemed to freeze at the name as it tumbled out of Tig's mouth, his eyes growing wide in surprise. "She give you a last name?"

The older man shook his head. "Nah, man, just Shelby. She didn't want to offer much except she was looking for you."

Opie slowly stood up from the table. "What'd she look like?" he pushed, resting his knuckles on the tabletop.

Tig let out a quiet groan of frustration. "Shit, bro, she looked like some broad, what the hell do you want from me?"

Opie pushed his way past towards the door. "You're welcome!" Tig called after him, swiping the still full beer from the tabletop and taking a swig. "Last time I do him any favors," he muttered, letting his eyes scan the crowd for his evening entertainment.

* * *

><p>Opie shoved open the door, his head turning from side to side as he searched the lot, his heart pounding in his chest. Shelby couldn't be here… could she? How would she even <em>know<em>? He'd wanted to call her, but didn't know how to contact her. He hadn't heard from her in so long… it had been even longer since he'd actually seen her. Would he even recognize her? How'd she know where to find him?

"Op?"

He spun around, his eyes scanning the darkness to his left. He saw the glow of a cigarette cherry in the shadows before it tumbled to the ground and disappeared. A woman slowly stepped out of the shadows, her feet shuffling against the pavement.

His breath caught in his throat as he came to recognize her. Waves of dark chocolate tumbled past her shoulders, wide green eyes framed in black… Her white blouse hugged at her curves, meeting a pair of tight dark blue jeans, a hole in the knee.

"Shel," he breathed, stepping forward, closing the distance between them.

She gave him a sad, almost shy, smile and wrapped her arms around him tightly. "Missed you, Opie," she whispered, pressing her face to his neck.


	2. Stay Awhile

**Author's Note: **Sorry for the delay guys… this chapter gave me such issues, not really sure why. But here it finally is. Advancing the plot if you will. Thank you to everyone that favorited/followed/reviewed on chapter 1. I hope your still with me and you enjoy the chapter. Again, this is AU after the season 1 finale, so if something is familiar, that's dumb luck, haha. Meh, I don't have much to say, so I hope you enjoy this chapter… I'm gonna go work on 3 so I don't keep you waiting as long (I hope)._  
><em>

I forgot to thank **siarh **in chapter 1, so I must remedy that now. Thank you milady for holding my hand and talking me off the ledge like you do. If you guys haven't read her stuff, take care of that now.

**Disclaimer:**I have no claim to SOA, Opie, Tig, etc. Those rights belong to Kurt Sutter, Ryan Hurst, Kim Coates, etc. But thank you to them for bringing them to my life, ha. 'Madness' belongs to Muse, 'Stay Awhile' belongs to Ryan Star. All I can truly lay claim to is Shelby.

**'_Stay awhile, oh you've got to stay awhile… these days are wild, baby, won't you stay awhile...'_**

"So you're tellin' me Donna had a sister?" Tig asked, glancing over at Gemma, popping a peanut into his mouth and crunching it between his teeth.

Gemma smoothed the rolling pin over the batch of dough. "Yeah, wild little bitch that one was," she replied. She smacked at Clay's hand as it reached past her waist for the pie cooling on the counter. "Hands off, baby, these aren't for you."

Her husband gave a scowl but lifted his hands in surrender. "I'm just hungry, alright? You've been so busy bakin' you've been starvin' and neglectin' me."

She jerked her chin towards the icebox in the corner. "Eat some of the leftovers, clean out the fridge for me."

Clay grumbled but kissed her cheek and made his way across the kitchen, smacking Tig over the head on his way. "Stop yappin' and leave my queen to her work."

Gemma rolled her eyes and glanced back at Tig. "Just ignore him, that's what I tend to do," she suggested. "And why are you asking me about Donna's sister?" She raised an eyebrow.

The darker man shrugged, taking a pull from his beer. "Cute little thing was hanging outside the clubhouse last night. Said she was lookin' for Opie when I pulled up and when I told him Shelby was lookin' for him, he dipped out and I didn't see him after that. I mentioned the name to your boy, he told me the only Shelby he knew that would be lookin' for Op was Donna's little sister."

Gemma shook her head, settling her dough into a pie pan. "So little Shelby Lerner's back from the dead, huh?" She paused, seeming to ponder. "Has to have been 10 years since she had the nerve to show her face around Charming." She let out a snort. "Figured the next time we'd hear about her, she'd be a corpse in a gutter somewhere. She never was all that bright."

Tig's eyes narrowed in curiosity as Clay settled in a chair beside him with a container brimming with food. "Back from the dead?"

"Figure of speech, brother," the president warned. "Don't be getting any ideas in that fucked up head of yours."

His Sergeant scoffed. "I just meant, where's she been?"

Gemma exchanged a look with her husband before grabbing an apple to core and slice. "She left Charming right after Opie and Donna's wedding." She scoffed. "Actually, she left _during_ the wedding-"

"Sounds scandalous," Tig interjected.

Clay shoveled a bite of cold meat loaf into his mouth. "Since when are you some kind of gossip queen?" he teased after he swallowed.

Tig shrugged, breaking a piece of beef and tossing it into his mouth. "So mysterious pussy intrigues me, so what?" he muttered around the food, returning his focus to the Teller matriarch

"Apparently ancient history does too," the older man shot back, leaning back in his chair, chewing quietly.

Gemma shook her head. "Poor girl thought she was in love with Opie," she explained, settling an apple core to the side. "But Op's always been loyal, almost to a fault. And I can't imagine he'll settle in with Shelby so quick. If at all, he wouldn't want to do that to Donna's memory." She glanced back at the table. "How do you not remember any of this? You were in Charming then."

Clay pointed his fork at Tig. "Op got married back when you were in lock up, right?"

He shook his head. "Nah, I was helping out the charter in Oregon."

Gemma let out a snort. "That's a convenient way to put it," she snarked. "Don't you mean when you were 'making friends' with farm animals?" she countered, leaning over to slip her pie into the oven, taking out another that had been baking.

He gave her a grin. "There was no penetration involved, mom," he retorted, his eyes sparkling. "Just some wigglin' around. Had to pass the time somehow."

She shook her head. "Sometimes I think we only keep you around for the stories, Tiggy," she teased, wiping her hands on her jeans.

"So this sister," Tig continued, coming back to the original subject. "She left because she couldn't take Donna getting with Opie? She was jealous?"

Gemma shook her head. "No, baby. Donna banished her from Charming after she caught her with Opie right before she was going to walk down the aisle. Pretty sure she threatened to kill Shelby if she ever came back."

* * *

><p>Shelby felt the sun on her face before she saw it. She slowly let her eyes flutter open, the window blinds lifted just enough that the light of the sun painted the room in a soft orange glow. She let out a quiet yawn and snuggled into the pillow beneath her cheek. She took a deep breath, inhaling the smoky and spicy scent that she had always associated with Opie.<p>

At the thought of her brother-in-law, she moved to a sitting position, looking around the room. Where the hell was she? She rubbed her hands over her face as the night before came flooding back to her. He had managed to slip her back into the clubhouse and while she knew what most people assumed, they had gone back to one of the spare rooms, and caught up. They spent a good portion of the night talking, remembering Donna and the years that had passed, almost feeling as though they had stepped back in time.

But where the hell was Opie _now_?

Her attention was pulled to the other side of the room at the sound of a snore. She couldn't help but smile when she saw Opie sprawled out in the desk chair, his head pitched toward his right shoulder. His hands were draped over the arm rests, his legs spread to keep him in the chair. He let out a another snore, shifting as he tried to get a bit more comfortable in the unforgiving chair.

Shelby couldn't help but smile, pulling her knees to her chin. She wrapped her arms around her calves and quietly watched him as he slept. She chewed her lower lip thoughtfully. God, she'd missed him. She'd known that, she'd missed him the moment she had walked out of the church all those years ago… but when she had seen him walk out of the clubhouse the night before…

She'd almost forgotten how to breathe at the sight of him, her heart skipping a beat. It was almost as if she hadn't ever left, as if no time had passed at all. He appeared older… taller… broader… But he was still _Opie_. That much hadn't changed.

Slowly, Shelby slid out of the bed, her feet hitting the floor without sound. She stretched her arms toward the ceiling, wincing as her back cracked into place. Her mouth stretched in a yawn and she rubbed her hands over her face before glancing down at her clothes, frowning at the wrinkles. She smoothed a palm over her shirt, running her other hand through her hair, wincing as her fingers caught in an especially stubborn knot. Her eyes moved around the room, looking for a mirror, but all she found were posters of a couple scantily clad car models.

She let out a quiet sigh before moving across the floor, closer to Opie. He didn't stir, his snores still echoing around the otherwise quiet room. She slipped behind the desk chair and gently rested her hands on his shoulders, kneading carefully. She felt him stir beneath her hands as she rubbed her thumbs over an especially stubborn knot at the top of his spine.

"If you ever stop doing that, I'll never speak to you again," Opie rasped, his voice rough with sleep.

Shelby chuckled, giving his shoulders a squeeze. "You're pretty tense, Op," she murmured.

He let out a grunt, arching into her hands. "Lotta shit goin' on," he replied, hissing as she dug her thumbs into his skin.

"That hurt?" Shelby asked, easing the pressure a touch.

"Means it's working," he replied, glancing at her over his shoulder. "And I'm tough, I can take a little pain."

She let out a quiet chuckle, pressing a kiss to the top of his head and a giving his shoulders a squeeze. "Better?" she asked, sliding out from behind the chair.

Opie gave her a nod, straightening his legs in front of him and crossing them at the ankle. "Thanks," he murmured, folding his hands over his stomach, his elbows resting on the armrest. "What's on your agenda today?"

Shelby opened her mouth to reply, but was cut off by a sharp knock. They both glanced at the door as it was pushed open, a blonde head coming into view.

"What's up, Sack?" Opie asked, pushing himself to his feet.

The younger man cleared his throat and stuck his thumb over his shoulder. "Jax was looking for you," he muttered, trying to keep his gaze on Opie. "Told me to find you if I could."

The bearded man gave him a nod. "Tell him I'll be out in a minute," he replied, dismissing the Prospect as he turned back to Shelby.

"Duty calls, huh?" the brunette asked as the door clicked shut.

Opie snagged his skull cap off the desk, pulling it over his head. "Should only take me a few minutes, if you wanna wait or…?"

Shelby shook her head, glancing at her watch. "Nah, I should take care of things," she replied vaguely, waving her hand. "But, I could stop by the house later, maybe?" She gave him a hopeful look.

He gave her a smile. "That works, I'd like that." He leaned down, wrapping his arms around her in a hug. "It's really good to have you back, Shel," he murmured in her hair, holding her close.

She squeezed her eyes shut, savoring how it felt to be in his arms again. "It's good to be home."

Opie held her for a few more moments, breathing in the scent of her perfume and shampoo. It felt good to hold a woman again, even if it wasn't Donna. He pressed his lips to her hair before taking a step back, letting his hand travel down her arm. "I'll see you later," he promised, smiling beneath his facial hair.

Shelby returned the smile and nodded, giving him a wave as he ducked out the door, pulling it shut behind him. She tucked a hand into her pocket, her smile fading as her fingers moved over the smooth metal inside. She had almost forgotten…

She pulled the ring from her pocket, her eyes watching as the metal caught the sunlight, the white gold shining. She folded her fingers around the band, pressing it into her palm.


	3. Secret

**Author's Note: **Hello friends. Well, chapter 3 was pretty much already finished, so after some tweaks and debating, here it is. Advancing the plot if you will… I'm hoping with this to manage a sort of 'slow burn'. A lot of developments are in the works and I hope you all enjoy the path the character's are taking me on. We shall see though._  
><em>

Thank you to **siarh **for taking the time to always look things over and listen to me whine. I also wanna thank **msreedus69 **and **Valerie E. Mackin **for taking the time to review. And also thank you to those that have favorited and followed.

**Disclaimer:**I have no claim to SOA, Opie, Tig, etc. Those rights belong to Kurt Sutter, Ryan Hurst, Kim Coates, etc. But thank you to them for bringing them to my life, ha. 'Madness' belongs to Muse, 'Secret' belongs to Missy Higgins. All I can truly lay claim to is Shelby.

'_**Cause you've got a secret, don't ya baby? Yeah you, you got a secret, don't ya babe? And I should know… yeah, I should know...'**_

Tig cruised down Main Street, contemplating his earlier conversation with Gemma. He was surprised he hadn't ever heard anything about this mysterious "sister". Then again, it wasn't like he had ever been all that close to Opie. They were brothers in the club, but that didn't mean they bonded or spent any sort of time one on one unless it was club related. Hell, he was pretty sure that the younger guy didn't have any idea about his daughters. Personal had no place in the MC. Sure, you became closer with people, but really, besides Jax and Piney, Opie didn't really take the time with the others. Which Tig was fine with, unless it got in the way of business.

And then there was the other fact that except for maybe Clay, Tig just didn't _care. _ He really wasn't interested in what went on outside of the clubhouse for his brothers. Generally, getting involved in their outside shit proved to be nothing but trouble. He loved his brothers, loved them like they were his own blood (which to an extent, they were, based on what they were forced to share), but that didn't mean he was going to be the guy they turned to in their time of 'need' whenever that may be...

He was so distracted by his thoughts that he almost missed Shelby as she stepped onto the sidewalk, digging through her purse underneath the awning of the local pawn shop. He eased on his breaks, backing his bike to the curb, his eyes zeroed in on her behind his dark lenses. She seemed to be counting, lost in her own thoughts. Then again, she probably wouldn't expect that anyone would be watching her.

He took the time to look her over, really analyze what he was looking at now that he had the chance. She looked about 5'5, which made sense. Donna hadn't been all that tall either. Her hair was long, dark brown waves running down her back, framing her face, side swept bangs that kept falling in her eyes while she looked down. He couldn't recall the color of her eyes, she had been blocked by shadows the night before and now she was just too far away. He could see she had a decent figure beneath her clothes, a strip of her toned stomach appearing between her shirt and jeans. Nice rack that made his cock twitch. Tig had to admit she was the type of girl that made you look at least twice.

He pressed the heel of his hand against his crotch, glancing from side to side, but no one really took notice. He swung his leg off the Dyna, wiping his palms on his thighs before cracking his knuckles and approaching the sidewalk.

* * *

><p>"Fancy meeting you here, darlin'."<p>

Shelby slowly lifted her head in surprise. There were only a handful of people in Charming that would take the time to speak to her, even less that would pretend to be polite. She slowly came to recognize the man in front of her as the one that had found Opie the evening before, his dark curls seeming even wilder in the daylight.

Her hand curled around the wad of bills in her purse, pushing them lower to keep them out of sight. "May I help you with something?" she asked cautiously, running her free hand through her hair.

An almost sinister grin curled over his lips as he watched her, seeming to gauge her discomfort at his presence as he lifted his shades of his eyes, sliding them on top of his head. "There's a lot you could help me with, I'm sure," he replied, a suggestive tone simmering beneath his words as those eyes raked over her before moving back to her face, settling on her mouth.

Shelby gave him a thin smile, tucking the money at the bottom of her purse and pulling her hand out, shifting her bag higher on her shoulder. "Guess that's something for another day," she retorted. "I have places to be Mister…" She trailed off, wracking her brain for his name. She knew Opie had mentioned a few men from the club as they'd moved towards the dorms, but she just couldn't recall. "Juice?"

He let out a snort of disbelief. "You think that's my name, doll?" He shook his head. "I like the boy well enough, but that's almost insulting."

She rolled her eyes. "Oh, well, forgive me for not remembering your name that you never took the time to give me."

"It's Tig, sweetheart," he offered. "You'll do well to remember that."

She raised an eyebrow. "Oh?" she asked. "And why's that?"

He gave her a leer. "You seem like a smart girl, I think you can figure out what I'm telling you."

Shelby scoffed. "If you think it's that easy, you're sadly mistaken," she shot back, giving him a smile. "Now, if you'll excuse me…" She moved to walk past him, taking care not to touch him as she passed.

His hand shot out, his fingers curling around her bicep to hold her in place. "You think with your sister out of the picture you're just gonna settle back in? Make Charming your home again?"

Shelby froze at his words. He said them softly, just barely above a whisper, but she could hear the sharpness on each letter and she knew he meant to cut with his seemingly innocent questions. She turned slowly, her green eyes meeting the icy blue of his own and she carefully set her jaw. "Excuse me?" she clipped, holding him with her stare.

"I'm just curious why you're back in town, what your agenda may be," he replied easily, his gaze shifting to focus further down the street, his fingers still tight around her arm.

She narrowed her eyes, taking a step back to put some distance between them, ripping herself from his grip. "My sister was just _murdered _and you're standing there asking if I have an _agenda_?" she spat, her eyes moving over him in disgust.

He scoffed, trying to block out the sudden image of Donna's dead, unseeing eyes. "Funeral was weeks ago, sugar," he reminded her. "You're gonna have to try a little harder if you wanna convince anyone that you're home because you were so 'concerned' about your sister when you didn't even take the time to show up there."

Shelby opened her mouth to defend herself but slowly let it shut. She knew what he was trying to say. She could feel the way he was trying to get a rise out of her. She could tell that he didn't trust her, trying to get her to slip up, attempting to read her. She knew guys like him, was fully aware of their methods. Letting him know that he was getting under her skin wouldn't prove anything and it sure as hell would do more harm than good.

Slowly, she exhaled a deep breath. She met his gaze and gave him a small smile. "While I appreciate your concern, why I may or may not be back in Charming is really none of your business and I really don't care if you believe me or not," she told him, her voice so soft that he had to lean forward to hear. She held his stare for several beats, letting her friendly expression melt into a glare. "So stay the hell away from me," she hissed before shoving past him, bumping him with her shoulder.

Tig watched her go, his finger rubbing over his bottom lip. He couldn't help but be impressed when he saw her throw her leg over a Harley a few spaces down from his. He liked pussy and he liked bikes. Combining the two made his cock stand at attention, especially when the gash was looking like Shelby. He could see how agitated she was as she shoved her helmet over her hair. He could tell by the stiffness of her shoulders that she could feel that he was still watching her, but she refused to meet his gaze as she kick started her bike, speeding off down Main Street.

He couldn't help but be amused that Shelby didn't seem at all intimidated by him. He knew the way people talked about him, how they saw him, some of it earned, most of it not so much. He liked the immediate respect and/or fear it brought him with outsiders. Either Opie hadn't taken the time to mention him or Shelby just didn't care. Generally, that would bother him, that a woman took the time to treat him in such a way that she believed that she were some sort of equal to him. But that sort of confidence made people careless, ensured that they would make some sort of mistake and that's what he was hoping for.

He reached into his cut, pulling out his Marlboros and hitting the pack against his opposite palm. He didn't trust this girl. He'd always trusted his gut, that was how he managed to move into his position as Clay's right hand of force and his gut was telling him that this sister was going to cause trouble for the club, cause change to move into their place in Charming. But until he had any sort of proof, he knew there wasn't much he could do about it… especially if she had Opie backing her.

Tig pulled out a cigarette with his teeth, tucking the pack back into his cut. He pulled out his burner and pressed his speed dial as he lowered his shades back over his eyes, moving the cylinder between his lips from side to side.

"_Yeah, Tig?"_

"Need a favor, Juicy," he replied, making the short walk back to his bike and straddling the seat, cradling the phone on his shoulder as he grabbed his lighter.

"_Can't wait to hear this."_

Tig let out a scoff, lighting the flint and pressing it to the cigarette, taking a deep inhale before pocketing his lighter. "You sound a little skeptical, brother," he replied, a smirk curling over his lips.

"_Always entertaining to find out what you think is 'important. So what do you need? Morgue hours?"_

"Need you to look up some information for me," he told him, blowing a cloud of smoke to the sky.

"_What kinda information?"_

He noted the apprehension in his brother's voice and he bit back the chuckle that threatened to escape as he thought about what Juice could possibly be expecting him to ask. "Need you to find what you can on a Shelby Lerner for me."

"_Shelby Lerner? Who the fuck-"_

"Doesn't matter, just do it," Tig snapped, reaching behind him for his helmet. "Get me the information before Church tonight." He flipped the phone shut before he could get a response and shoved it in his pocket, jamming his helmet over his curls.

* * *

><p>Shelby pulled her Harley into the driveway, cutting the engine. She rolled her shoulders, trying to loosen up the stiffness from the ride. She could still feel her annoyance at Tig brewing just beneath the surface. He made her angry. More than that, he made her nervous. Not so much because of who he was. She recalled that Opie hadn't really said much about the darker man, but she wasn't a fool. She knew what was necessary for a man to do if he was looking to be in the position of Sergeant At Arms in a club like SAMCRO, especially given that it was the mother charter. Not just anyone would be able to fulfill and stomach those duties and anyone that did would have a very specific reputation, especially in a town as small as Charming.<p>

What made her nervous was the way he looked at her, the way it was clear in his crystal eyes that he didn't trust her. She could tell that he was waiting, trying to figure out what she was hiding. And she wasn't stupid. She knew he'd figure out what she'd left behind… know that he was right, she _hadn't _just come home because her sister died. If anything, that was just more than convenient timing...

"Since when do you ride?"

Shelby jerked her head towards Opie's voice in surprise as he walked out of the garage, wiping his hands on an already filthy rag. "Had a boyfriend for awhile that I rode with," she explained, shoving her thoughts away as she pushed herself off the seat and settled her helmet on the back of the bike. "He got tired of a chick backseat driving so he got me this baby." The brunette gave her ride a fond smile as she pushed her sunglasses on top of her head. "He may not have been worth shit, but at least I got this out of the deal," she finished, patting the warm leather seat.

Her brother-in-law stepped forward, his eyes moving over the bike. "Sportster?" he asked, lifting his gaze from the other side of the ride.

Shelby nodded, stuffing her hands in her pockets. "Yup," she replied, popping the 'p' and rocking on her heels.

He raised an eyebrow, tucking his rag in his back pocket. "Pretty nice to be just a gift," he acknowledged.

She let out a small bitter chuckle. "Don't worry, he made sure I earned it."

Opie raised an eyebrow at her vague and somewhat bitter response. He regarded her carefully, sifting through their conversation from the night before, trying to recall her mentioning a boyfriend. Hell, he couldn't even remember her mentioning any people that she had known and as he dug a little deeper, he realized that she hadn't taken the time to even explain where she'd called 'home' for the past decade. She had managed to gloss over any sort of real answer, turning the conversation back to him and what he was going through, what he'd been doing.

He looked her over, trying to determine if her appearance would give him any sort of clues. Her hair was longer, darker than it had been. Her green eyes were deeper, but that may have been the change in her makeup style over ten years. Her body had filled out… gone was the childish softness, replaced by endless curves and angles. He could see smudges of ink peeking out where her shirt rode a little too high, dipped a bit low.

"Hey, so you still haven't told me where you've been all this time," he murmured, crossing his arms over his chest, trying to appear casual.

Shelby swallowed and bit her lip at the question. She glanced at Opie, giving him a shrug. "I told you I've been around, Op," she muttered, shuffling her foot against the asphalt. "Nowhere all that special really."

He let out a grunt of mild disbelief. That answer was too easy, even he knew that. She was hiding something, he could see that now based on her discomfort, the way she was avoiding. Examining her a bit closer, he could tell she had lived a little harder, a bit rougher than he would have expected given the girl that she had been when she left Charming from the bus depot. While she still had the youthful look he could remember and she had obviously grown up over the past decade, there was something else, something more ominous than natural aging just beneath her features. But that made sense, you didn't leave home at 17 with not much more than the clothes on your back and not return without a few battle scars, a couple still healing wounds.

What was beginning to worry him was that she didn't seem to want to _talk _about it. He couldn't get a state, much less a city, of where she had been, who she had been with, how she had survived. She seemed to carry herself with an air eerily similar to the sweetbutts and croweaters that he was surrounded by being a part of SAMCRO. And that was never something he would have wanted for a girl like Shelby. She was better than that, much like Donna had been. His stomach clenched at the reminder of his late wife.

"You haven't just been on the road for a decade, Shel," he argued, feeling frustration bubble just beneath the surface but still attempting to keep it down. "You're trying to tell me you never stopped, you were just constantly moving?"

She cleared her throat, forcing a smile. "Shouldn't Kenny and Ell-"

"God DAMMIT, Shelby!" Opie shouted, finally losing his cool as he reached out and grabbed her by the shoulders, shaking her lightly. "Stop it and talk to me!"

"Opie, you need to let me go," she told him calmly, her eyes focused on his throat. Her tone sounded practiced and her body language indicated that she had experience with a man's rough handling. If he was honest with himself, that terrified him, especially when he saw the emptiness leak into her eyes.

Slowly, he loosened his grip, letting his hands fall to his sides. He took a step back, his gaze fixed on her. "Shelby, what the hell _happened_ to you?" he quietly asked, a slight plead in his tone.

Shelby swallowed and shook her head, lowering her sunglasses back over her eyes before grabbing her helmet and settling it on her head, tucking her dark waves underneath. "I grew up," she replied with a shrug, before throwing a leg over her bike. "And I stopped waiting," she finished. She kickstarted her bike, the rumble of the engine slicing through the air. She gave him a forced smile. "See you around!" she shouted, her voice barely cutting over the noise before she backed down the driveway and peeled out onto the street.

Opie watched her go, resting his hands on the skullcap covering his hair, lacing his fingers. Part of him told him to go after her, force her to talk to him. But he knew that wouldn't get him anywhere. If Shelby was trying to hide something, he wouldn't be able to get her to open up. She'd always been like that, bottling things until they were forced to come out. The only advantage he had was that she wouldn't be able to hide from him forever… things _always _had a way of coming out.

But Shelby Lerner was clearly hiding something. Something big… maybe even something bad. And given why she left, Opie felt responsible for whatever she'd been forced to go through. He had to find out what had happened to her while she'd been away, no matter how hard she tried to keep it from him.


	4. Black Sheep

**Author's Note: **Here we have Chapter 4. I hope you're still sticking with me. Like I said in the last AN, this is literally a slow burn. Even I'm getting impatient, haha. But I can only go where these guys take me. And they haven't take me to the juicy stuff yet. But I promise it's coming. Thank you to all those who read, reviewed, favorited, alerted. It makes me happy to know that people are interested or intrigued. Not much else to say, so I'll let you get to the chapter. :)

**Disclaimer: **I have no claim to SOA, Opie, Tig, etc. Those rights belong to Kurt Sutter, Ryan Hurst, Kim Coates, etc. But thank you to them for bringing them to my life, ha. 'Madness' belongs to Muse, 'Black Sheep' belongs to Gin Wigmore. All I can truly lay claim to is Shelby.

'_**I'm a bad woman to keep, make me mad, I'm not here to please… paint me in a corner, but my color comes back… once you go black, you never go back… I'm a black sheep...'**_

"Thought you were coming to the clubhouse?"

Tig glanced up from the engine he was working on to see Juice looking at him with a frown, holding a manila folder against his side. "Wanted to finish working on this piece," he replied, gesturing with his chin before standing up straight and wiping the back of his hand across his forehead. "And I told you I'd get the info from you before Church, gave you a couple more hours." He glanced towards the office to see Gemma bent over her desk in concentration, holding her glasses over her eyes. He assumed she was looking over the latest repo list before handing it over to Half Sack and Chibs. Turning back to Juice, he raised an eyebrow. "Doesn't look like much there," he noted, holding out his hand and curling his fingers in a 'gimme' motion.

Juice shrugged, passing him the folder before leaning against the door of the car Tig was working with, his arms crossed tightly over his chest. "Not much to find as far as I can tell. She's fairly clean. Couple speeding tickets, few noise complaints, some hospital visits that looked interesting…" He trailed off as the older man sifted through the papers. "She does have a restraining order against a…" He wracked his brain trying to recall the name.

"Bryant Wade," Tig read, his gaze traveling over the letters, his fingers tapping against the paper. He wracked his brain, trying to figure out why it sounded so familiar. His eyes widened as he realized where he'd heard it before. "Holy shit, he was part of Devil's Tribe up in Nevada wasn't he?" he asked, looking back up at Juice. "Mean ass mother fucker… was one of the few that didn't like us patchin' them over. Think I heard he even left his cut behind."

Juice shook his head. "I don't remember him," he admitted. "But can't say I paid that close attention to the ones that left."

Tig racked his brain for a couple moments. "Think the Prospect would know how to get a hold of that sweet Cherry pie of his?" he asked, pawing through the remaining sheets of paper, lingering on a hospital chart. He noted that she had been brought in for fairly serious injuries and recognized the descriptions matching those of victims of abuse.

Juice's mouth twitched. "If he can't, I could probably manage to dig up a number, but why?"

Tig shook his head. "Just a special project, Juicy," he replied, giving him a grin as he flipped the folder shut and settled it on top of his toolbox. "Nothin' to worry that pretty little head of yours about." He reached over rubbing his hand over the mohawk.

The younger biker swatted at him. "Dammit, Tig, what have I told you about touching my hair?"

His retort was cut off as the sound of unfamiliar chopper cut through the air. The two men glanced out of the garage to see a biker they didn't recognize pull up, the engine's sputter mixing with feminine curses before the engine was shut off.

"God fuckin' dammit," the voice carried from beneath the helmet.

Tig and Juice exchanged a look before ducking out to the lot. They approached the bike and Tig couldn't help the grin that spread over his lips as the rider removed the helmet, letting her hair tumble down her back before she pushed herself off the ride with a huff.

"I'm starting to get the feelin' you're following me," he teased, his eyes moving over the machine beneath her.

Shelby glanced up and sneered behind her lenses. "Really? I guess my day just went from bad to worse," she muttered, pushing her sunglasses on top of her head, squinting at him beneath the bright sunlight.

Juice took a step forward. "Engine's not sounding too good there," he commented, cutting his eyes at Tig as he came to recognize the woman in front of him as the one from the photo in his file. "Need us to take a look at it? See what the trouble is?"

She shot him a grateful look. "Please," she replied, gesturing at the Harley. "I'd look at it myself but I haven't had much of a chance and I don't want to risk it, y'know?"

"You know bikes?" Tig asked skeptically, resting a hand on the throttle.

Shelby gave him a smirk. "What, because I don't have a cock swinging between my legs, I can't know bikes?"

Juice snorted back surprised laughter, his eyes wide as he glanced at Tig for his reaction. The man regarded her carefully, sucking at his teeth for a moment. The girl had spunk, he had to give her that. "Might take us a day or two, we're pretty backed up," he finally told her, eyeing her, almost daring her to give him shit.

She let out a sigh, tossing her hair over her shoulder. "Seriously? Just to _look _at it? I mean, that's my only transportation," she muttered. She pulled her cell out of her pocket. "Can you give me a second?" she asked, aiming the question at Juice.

"Of course, hon, take your time," he replied, giving her a friendly grin.

Shelby gave him a grateful smile before shooting a dirty look at Tig. She pressed her speed dial and turned to walk a few feet away for the illusion of privacy.

They watched her walk, each man appreciating the view, before Juice shifted his gaze to his brother. "So this is making a lot more sense to me now."

Tig flipped him off. "Not interested in your theories, Juicy," he muttered, ducking back into the garage.

"Not theories, man," the Puerto Rican told him, following after. "I just couldn't figure out why you would be researching some random chick, but I guess she ain't so random, huh?" He glanced back at Shelby, his eyes scanning over her carefully. "And she's not liking you much, now is she?" He snagged the folder up and flipped it open. "Why the interest?" he pressed, skimming over the top page.

"Just keepin' track of our Charming visitors," he replied, tossing the rag to the side and grabbing a wrench.

Juice let out a snort, snapping the folder shut and settling it back on the toolbox. "Oh yeah, that's Tig Trager, our very own Charming Welcoming Committee," he joked.

"For the sake of tourism, I hope that's you being funny."

The two men glanced up to see Shelby leaning against the door of the garage, her phone gripped in her hand as she bounced her arm off her thigh. Tig couldn't help but grit his teeth as he noticed Juice's smirk out of the corner of his eye.

"Everything figured out for you?" the Puerto Rican asked before his older counterpart could make a snide remark.

Shelby sighed. "I think so, I just needed to be sure I could get a ride." She glanced back at her bike. "Any idea what kinda time I'm looking at being bike-less?" she asked.

Juice looked at Tig. "What are you thinking?"

His mouth twitched. "Well, it's gonna be me or Opie that looks at it." He bit back a snort at the way the girl's body jerked at Opie's name, her attention seeming to zero in. "Depends what else we're workin' on."

"There's really no one else?" she asked, a slight whine to her tone.

Tig snorted. "Not unless you want someone to fuck your shit up worse," he replied matter-of-factly.

Juice couldn't help but grin at the tension in the garage. He always loved watching Tig get worked up for whatever reason, as long as it wasn't aimed in his direction. "C'mon, hon," he told her, resting a hand on her lower back. "Let me take you to the office so Gemma can get your information, alright?"

Tig watched as the Puerto Rican guided her out the bay door to make the short walk towards the office. He narrowed his eyes, watching her hips as they switched. Yeah, that girl was gonna be fuckin' trouble alright. He snagged the folder up and tucked it in the back of his pants before turning back to the engine, mumbling under his breath.

* * *

><p>Shelby could feel her stomach bunching in nerves as she was guided towards the office of the shop. The walk seemed to be taking forever and going much too quickly all at the same time. She hadn't seen Gemma Teller-Morrow since she had left Charming and even <em>that <em>didn't seem long enough. The woman had always terrified her, even as a small child. She had such an air about her, carried herself in a way that let everyone know she wasn't one to be screwed with…

"You alright? You look a little pale."

She turned towards the man beside her and forced a smile. "I'm okay, just not looking forward to being without my bike for awhile." She glanced across the lot at the row of parked motorcycles. "I'm sure you know what that's like."

He nodded and gave her a grin. "Always sucks to be without your ride," he agreed. "I'm Juice, by the way," he introduced. "Should probably stop being rude."

Shelby gave him a sly smile, thankful for the easy conversation. "Your crew doesn't seem to have an abundance of manners," she admitted.

He let out a laugh, his hand resting on the handle of the door. "Somehow I think your opinion rests on the shoulders of just one member," he teased, pushing the door open. "Shouldn't generalize or pass judgment on the rest of us, just isn't fair."

She opened her mouth to reply but felt like she was punched in the gut as Gemma's eyes lifted to meet hers.

"Well," the older woman greeted, standing up straight and moving her glasses down the bridge of her nose. "I was wondering when we'd see you around here, baby." She gave the brunette an expression that could be considered a smile, but there was no warmth or welcome to be found.

Shelby swallowed, the corners of her own mouth lifting to give a nervous smile. She cleared her throat. "Hi, Gem-I mean, Mrs. Morrow," she murmured, her voice cracking as she corrected herself. She felt Juice's look of surprise settle on her but she refused to meet his gaze, keeping her attention on the woman before her. "I just need to drop off my bike and I was told you needed to get my info?"

Gemma arched a perfectly sculpted eyebrow, her hand grabbing a form and a pen. "Have a seat." She looked past to Juice at the door. "Don't you have some work to do yourself?"

He gave her a grin. "Just making sure I got our customer to you safely," he replied. "If you have it all handled, I'll get back to work." He slipped out the door before anyone could say anything else.

Shelby felt her stomach flip as Gemma's eyes and attention settled back on her again. She carefully took the paperwork and pen that was being offered to her with slightly shaky hands. "Thank you," she murmured, moving the items to her lap.

She could feel eyes on her as she wrote carefully, willing herself to be calm. They always said that predators could smell fear and she could only imagine what Gemma was getting a whiff of the longer they sat across from one another.

"So what brings you back?" the older woman asked, breaking the suffocating silence. She crossed her legs at the knee and leaned back in her seat, folding her hands at her chest.

Shelby cleared her throat and glanced up, forcing another smile. "My sister," she replied, her voice quiet. "Figured I should come back, see what needs to be done… especially since our parents…" She trailed off and gave a shrug before dropping her gaze back to the paper, the words blurring before her.

Gemma nodded slowly, tenting her fingers under her chin. "Was a bit surprised we didn't see you after Roland and Betty passed last year," she admitted, her jaw setting. "Not sure why you decided to come back now and not then. Would've made a hell of a lot more sense."

The brunette cleared her throat and squeezed her eyes shut, trying to hold back the burn of tears. She couldn't cry in front of a woman like this, no matter how much she might want to. She took a ragged breath and met Gemma's stony gaze again. "Donna wouldn't have wanted me there… I stayed away for her. Made it easier..."

The other woman scoffed. "I can't imagine you've done _anything_ in your life that wasn't selfish, so why would you have started then?" She took the paper and scanned it before sliding it to the table. "You're all set." She stood up and motioned for the door. "You'll get a call when the bike is ready. We're done here."

Shelby stood and exhaled a breath at the dismissal. "I know you aren't all that fond of me, but don't pretend you know me either," she told her, feeling as though her heart was going to beat out of her chest.

Gemma's brow arched and a smirk pulled at her mouth. "Kitten trying to tell me she has claws?"

The younger girl shook her head. "I would never dream of being disrespectful towards you… I just think you should make opinions based on fact rather than what you believe to be gut. Especially considering how much time has passed."

She narrowed her eyes. "My gut's never proven me wrong, baby. And it's always told me that if you're around, trouble ain't far behind."

Shelby swallowed and nodded slowly. "I'm sorry you feel that way… but unfortunately, I have no plans to go anywhere. So I guess you're just going to have to get used to me." She held her breath as she quickly turned on her heel and walked out the door, feeling Gemma's eyes burning into her back.


	5. Say When

**Author's Note: **And onto chapter 5… I wanna start off by thanking anyone who's favorited, followed, or reviewed so far. I especially wanna thank **Valerie E. Mackin, mrsreedus69, OnTheWildside** because they took the time to review. I do appreciate it. Anyways… this story is a much slower build than I'm used to… I hope that you're sticking with me and not getting bored, haha. I know where I'm planning and wanting to go, it's just a matter of getting there. But this chapter kinda continues to set the stage and I feel like it also gives a little more of an idea where the gentlemen stand at this point and positions them appropriately. We'll see. Hope you enjoy! And I'll go work on chapter 6 so there isn't the same sort of wait (I hope…).

**Disclaimer: **I have no claim to SOA, Opie, Tig, etc. Those rights belong to Kurt Sutter, Ryan Hurst, Kim Coates, etc. But thank you to them for bringing them to my life, ha. 'Madness' belongs to Muse, 'Say When' belongs to The Fray. All I can truly lay claim to is Shelby.

**_'You're in the song playing on the background, all alone, but you're turning up now… and everyone is rising to meet you, to greet you...'_**

Tig leaned against the wall in the bay door of the garage, watching as Shelby stepped out of the office, hurrying away from the door. Even from a distance he could note the stiffness across her shoulders and the pallor in her cheeks. He hit the wrench in his hand against his opposite palm rhythmically and left out a chuckle as he contemplated what sort of wringer Gemma had put the girl through. "You alright there, sweetheart?" he called.

She looked up, her eyes wide. "You trying to tell me you care?" she shot back, wiping her palms on her jeans.

He grinned at her, spinning the wrench in his hand. He shoved himself off the building and approached, his grin widening as she seemed to wind up tighter and tighter the closer he got. "You all filled out?" he asked, stopping a few feet in front of her, tucking the wrench in his pocket and slipping his thumbs through his belt loops, his fingers framing his zipper.

She licked her lips and narrowed her eyes, keeping their gazes locked, avoiding where he was attempting to draw her attention. "If you're referring to my paperwork, then yes," she replied.

Tig's own eyes widened in faux innocence as he rested a hand on his chest, the metal of his rings catching the sunlight. "And what else would I be referrin' to, doll?"

Shelby rolled her eyes and crossed her arms over her chest. "How long is my bike gonna take, you think?" she asked, changing the subject.

He gave her a shrug, scratching the back of his head. "Takes as long as it takes," he replied easily. "We'll give you a call when it's done."

She let out a groan and tipped her head back. The sound and motion made Tig's jeans seem just a bit tighter, his imagination roaming to what it would be like if she made the sound with less clothing and on top of him. "Are you going to financially gouge me while you're at it? Because I only have so much money these days…"

"Depends on the damage, sweetheart, but I promise we'll attempt to be gentle," he replied, giving her a wink. "And if not, we can always make... other sorts of arrangements."

Shelby gave him a faux smile as a black Audi peeled into the lot. "And here I thought this was an establishment with some class. Can you at least give me a call after you look at it, let me know if I need to rent a car or something?"

Tig's eyes followed the car as it pulled up beside them, the onyx paint shimmering in the sunlight. "I'll put you at the top of my list, doll," he told her, his blue eyes flashing back to hers.

The driver's side door flew open and a statuesque blonde unfolded herself from the seat. "You ready to go?" she asked, sidling up to Shelby, her heavily mascaraed eyes scanning over the biker. He felt his cock stand at attention at the sudden idea of these two together, all tangled, sweaty limbs and heavy breathing, Shelby making those soft moans he was sure would float through his mind later.

The brunette let out a sigh breaking into his reverie. "I guess," she murmured, looking longingly at her bike. She shifted her gaze, locking her gaze with Tig's before lowering her sunglasses over her eyes. "Take care of her," she snarled. "Or at least remember to tell Opie who's bike he's working on."

"Be nice," the blonde muttered into Shelby's ear, giving her hand a quick squeeze.

The brunette grumbled under her breath as she walked around the car and yanked open the door, sliding into the passenger seat. Tig could have sworn he felt the ground shake when she slammed the door with more force than necessary.

The blonde let her gaze travel over Tig one last time before she slithered back into her car, the sleek vehicle making its' way out of the lot.

"That's one of Luann's girls."

Tig turned to see Gemma close behind him, a few papers in her hands. "The blonde? Thought she looked familiar," he replied, scratching the back of his neck.

"Typical company I'd imagine Shelby to keep, but I never would've thought that girl would be a rug muncher," she continued absently, stepping up beside him.

He couldn't help the grin that spread over his face. "Ain't nothin' wrong with two ladies appreciating each others' finer qualities," he told her, slipping his arm around her shoulders. "Especially if I get to watch."

Gemma rolled her eyes. "Typical man," she muttered, nudging him lightly. "Overheard you talking to Juice earlier."

Tig let out a groan. "Dammit, Gem, I can't-"

She cut him off with a look. "I'm not sure what you're playing at Tigger, but you need to be careful with girls like that," she warned. "You know that from experience."

He shook his head. "Don't worry, mama, I'm just trying to figure out what she's doing back in Charming, that's all. Same thing that I know you're doin'."

Gemma scoffed. "I think our methods to these things tend to be just a touch different, sweetheart," she replied. "Just see if you can try to keep that cock of yours in your pants, baby…You don't need her kinda trouble, whatever it may be." A bike pulled into the lot and the pair of them recognized Opie as he backed his chopper in the line. She glanced at Tig and shook her head. "Especially if it's going to throw some of the other boys in the mix." She didn't wait for a response before she made her way back to the office, stopping to give the younger biker a quick hug and kiss on the cheek.

Tig chewed the inside of his cheek, watching Opie carefully. He noticed that the kid looked a little lighter in his step since Donna's death and now that Shelby was back in town. He was never the happy-go-lucky sort, (really, which one of them was, living the way they did?) but even Tig had to acknowledge the change in the guy's demeanor.

"Is that Shelby's ride?"

Tig followed Opie's gaze to the Sportster. "Yeah, you just missed the gash actually."

The taller man shot Tig a look. "Don't call her that," he warned, letting his eyes travel back to the bike. "We know what's wrong?"

Tig shook his head, watching as Opie approached the machine, his eyes travelling over it. "Haven't had a chance to look at it, but I'm thinkin' the engine may be shot. I was gonna probably work with it tonight, see what I could figure out."

"I can take care of it," he argued, shaking his head. "Should really get back into the swing and I know Shel would trust me with it."

Tig felt a tingle in his fist and the urge to knock the wrench in his pocket over the side of Opie's head, but he couldn't pinpoint where the feeling came from. It wasn't like he knew Shelby and really, he wasn't sure he wanted to considering… he just wanted to protect his club. "You sure man? I don't mind putting her in my rotation."

He noticed the way the younger man raised an eyebrow at the choice of words. "Nah, 'preciate it, but it's fine, she'd want me to take care of her," he replied, and Tig could hear the warning continuing to simmer under his words.

The two stared each other down. Tig could see Opie scanning him, trying to figure out what he may want with Shelby, what angle he was coming from. He could see that the man didn't trust him and there was a note of concern of in his expression, concern for what could happen to Shelby if Tig got close at all. The older man really had no desire to hurt the girl unless it was forced to come to that. He'd always protect the club, no matter who got hurt in the process… he internally winced when he realized that's why Donna had met the fate she did… Not that Opie needed to know that part...

"There a problem here?"

They looked up to see Juice looking between them. "Nah," Tig replied, his blue eyes moving to Opie, a slightly crazed grin pulling at his mouth. "No problem at all."

Opie's eyes tightened, but he nodded an agreement. "We're good, I was just checkin' in. Guess we're done." He didn't wait for a reply from either man as he shouldered his way past Tig and made his way into the clubhouse.

Juice raised an eyebrow. "Seemed a little tense," he pointed out, resting his foot against the wall, his arms crossed tightly over his chest.

The darker man shook his head, running a hand over the handlebars of Shelby's bike. "We were just talkin' about this beauty here."

The Puerto Rican chuckled, rubbing his palm over the tattoo on his head. "You referring to the bike or the owner?"

Tig looked up, meeting his eyes, his fingers curling around the throttle. "I'll have to let you know."

* * *

><p>"Sack, get me a shot," Opie requested, resting his palms on top of the bar.<p>

Piney glanced up from his bottle of Patron. "Little early for you, isn't it?"

The younger Winston scoffed, settling on the stool next to his father. "Must get it from my old man," he quipped, snatching up the shot that the Prospect set in front of him and draining it.

Piney took a drag from his straw, his other hand fiddling with his oxygen tank. "You did get most of my finer qualities," he growled, patting his son on the back. "What's on your mind? You didn't need to stop by for a couple hours yet."

Opie gave a shrug under his cut. "We could be here awhile if you wanna start sifting through what I may or may not be thinking," he admitted, nodding to Half Sack to pour him another shot.

Piney rested a hand on his boy's shoulder. "You're goin' through a lot son, more than you should have to." He gave his shoulder a gentle squeeze before lowering his hand back to his oxygen. "Heard Shelby Lerner's back in town."

Opie coughed, choking on the liquor that he had been about to swallow. He glanced over at his father in surprise. "Didn't know you were into gossiping about chicks, Pop," he remarked.

"You know I've always liked Shelby, the little spitfire she was," he replied fondly, a smile pulling at his chapped lips.

The younger man shook his head. "She ain't so little anymore, Pop, I gotta tell you."

Piney eyed his son carefully, watching as he turned the refilled shot glass between his hands. "Whatever you're thinkin' boy, I'd stop if I were you," he told him, his tone low and gruff.

Opie swallowed and shook his head. "Not really thinkin' anything," he muttered, lifting the shot glass and pouring liquor down his throat, welcoming the burn.

"That girl isn't going to replace Donna, no matter how much blood they share," Piney told him, shaking his head.

The man shook his head as his father's words absorbed into his brain. He wasn't looking to replace Donna. His late wife was irreplaceable, he knew that. But it was nice to have someone around that knew Donna the way he did, even if she had been gone for as long as she had. He knew that Shelby had regrets when it came to her sister, the same way he did. He would be able to talk to the girl in a way that he really couldn't talk to anyone else. It didn't mean he was trying to move Shelby into Donna's place, treat her as though she were just a stand in.

"I know how you've always felt about her, son," Piney broke into his thoughts, his voice gentle. "And I know how she felt and may still feel about you. You need to be careful with that, be fair to her and yourself."

Opie let out a humorless chuckle. "And just what do you think I'm gonna do, Pop?"

"I'm not sure," the older man admitted shaking his head. "Which is why I think you need this warning now."

* * *

><p>Juice's fingers moved over the keyboard faster than Tig was comfortable. "You really know what you're doing, don't you?" the older man asked, feeling a bit dizzy at the sound of the clicking.<p>

The Puerto Rican chuckled. "You should've taken a typing class or two old man," he teased, his eyes still on the screen. His hands stopped, hovering over the keyboard before his right clicked the mouse. "Here we go," he murmured, pulling up a page.

Tig peered over his shoulder. "You found her?"

Juice clicked the printer icon, the machine coming to life at their left. "As if there was any doubt?" he countered. "She wasn't all that hard to find, I'm actually disappointed you didn't give me more of a challenge." He pulled the still warm paper off the printer and held it out.

The curly haired man snatched the sheet away, his eyes moving over the type and picture. "I'll try harder next time." He folded the paper and shoved it into his back pocket before cracking his neck. "And remember-"

Juice rolled his eyes and shook his head. "I know, I know," he interjected. "Keep this between us for now."

Tig gave him a grin. "You learn fast, Juicy." He gave him a nod as he backed towards the door. "See you in an hour."

He stepped into the hallway, pulling the door shut tight behind him. He really hated that he had to get Juice involved in his research, but he didn't have much of a choice. He didn't know jack about computers and he wasn't about to start when he could just get someone to do his dirty work for him. He made the short walk to his room, kicking the door shut behind him before turning the lock.

Tig slipped the paper out of his pocket before sitting on the edge of the bed, his other hand reaching for his phone. He keyed in a phone number and lifted the plastic to his ear.

"Mornin', Ashby's…"

A grin spread over Tig's face at the accent on the other end. "Top o' the mornin' to you, doll. Is Rita available?"


	6. Basic Space

**Author's Note: **Hello again... miss me? Here's chapter 6... still a slow burn... I think there's one more chapter of "build" before things really get going. I don't wanna have them jump into anything, y'know? So, I appreciate you hanging in there with me. Thank you, as always, to those that have favorited, followed, reviewed... It means a lot and does help inspire to know that people are still reading and enjoying this. Especially big thank yous and hugs to **Valerie E. Mackin, mrsreedus69, OnTheWildside** for reviewing. You girls ruleeeeeee! Alright, enough of my babbling. Onto the story...

**Disclaimer: **I have no claim to SOA, Opie, Tig, etc. Those rights belong to Kurt Sutter, Ryan Hurst, Kim Coates, etc. But thank you to them for bringing them to my life, ha. 'Madness' belongs to Muse, 'Basic Space' belongs to The xx. All I can truly lay claim to is Shelby.

'_**I'll take you in pieces, we can take it all apart… I've suffered shipwrecks right from the start… I've been underwater, breathing out and in… I think I'm losing where you end and I begin...'**_

"Fuckin' piece of shit," Opie growled, hitting his wrench against the tank of the bike.

"I'm sure Shelby will be thrilled that you left scratches on her piece."

He lifted his head to see Tig in the doorway of the garage, lifting a chipped mug of coffee to his mouth. "Fuck you, Tig," he muttered, pushing himself to his feet and shoving the tool in his belt. "Looks like she hasn't been maintaining this thing."

The older man drained what was left of his cup, setting it on a shelf beside him before approaching, wiping his hands on his thighs. He glanced over the machine and grimaced. "This is why you don't give bitches bikes," he mumbled, running a hand through his hair before crouching to look a little closer.

Opie scowled at his brother's assessment and dismissal of Shelby, but he bit his tongue. If they had been discussing anyone else, he probably would have voiced his agreement. Her fuel lines were clogged with shit beyond any sort of repair and would need to be replaced and he was disappointed that she had let such a nice ride go the way she did.

But that didn't mean he liked Tig being so disrespectful towards Shelby. Especially when he didn't know her. "Any way to get around replacement, y'think?" he finally asked as the man stood to his full height.

The older man shot him a look. "What do you think?" he replied.

Opie sighed. "Thought as much." He pulled a rag out of his back pocket and started wiping the grease off his hands. "What are you doing here so early, anyway? You're not on the schedule til this afternoon, right?"

Tig internally grimaced at the question, though he'd known it was going to come up. While it wasn't impossible for him to force himself into the sunshine and roll into the shop when he wasn't on the schedule, it was a rarity. Especially on a Saturday. Opie was more than aware of his habits, especially since they tended to be on similar pieces. He'd held out hope that the younger man would have started back to work the next day, but he should've known better. "Had the same idea as you, thought I'd take a closer look at the bike. Figured I'd have the time."

The younger biker raised an eyebrow, picking up the wrench. "Told you I'd take care of it," he replied, tossing the rag to the side. "Your mind goin', old man?"

Tig scowled at the teasing. "Ain't old, brother, just _seasoned_," he retorted. His eyes moved over the bike one last time before he shrugged. "Well, if you got it taken care of, I'm gonna go have a beer. Maybe a shot."

Opie let out a snort. "Alcohol and coffee, breakfast of champions," he quipped.

The darker man gave him a mock salute before tucking his hand into his pocket and making his way across the lot towards the clubhouse.

Opie watched him go, absently twisting the wrench between his palms. He couldn't help the worry that was gnawing in the back of his mind. Tig never offered to take on specific pieces and he sure as hell didn't take the time to look at anything he wasn't assigned. Whatever was in front of him, that was the vehicle he worked with. He rarely associated with the actual customers and if he couldn't avoid, he was everything but civil. The fact that the older man was so interested in Shelby's bike, enough to even know it was hers… it made him really uneasy and even more concerned for his sister-in-law.

He gave his head a shake. He was overthinking it. There was really no reason for Tig to be overly interested in Shelby. He must've just been interested in the piece. He let out a sigh before crouching down to see if he could manage to salvage anything on the bike.

* * *

><p>Tig shoved his way into the clubhouse, rubbing a hand over his face before letting his eyes adjust to the dimly lit room. He hadn't been kidding, he needed a fuckin' drink if he was going to manage to get through this day if Opie was going to be hovering.<p>

"Tig."

He glanced over his shoulder at Juice's voice as he reached over the bar to grab a bottle of liquor. "Not now, Juicy," he muttered, twisting off the top and taking a swallow.

The Puerto Rican rolled his eyes as he hopped on a stool beside the older man. "You're getting too old for these late nights," he replied, a grin pulling at his mouth. "Little hair of the dog going to help?"

Tig scowled, leaning his back against the bar, his elbows resting on either side of him. "There a reason you're bothering me this early?"

Juice shrugged, pulling his leg up under him. "Professional curiosity. Wondering how the information I pulled for you is working out."

The scowl deepened at the younger man's question. His phone call to Cherry had been an absolute wash. Based on her quick answers and brush offs it had been clear she knew _something_, but he only had so many resources that he could use to make her talk. Since he was trying to keep his 'research' on the low, it wasn't like he could make too many weighted threats. He had thrown Sack's name around more than necessary, but she still hadn't taken the bait. Most likely because she _knew_ he didn't have the means to back himself up in his current situation. "None of your concern, man," he replied, knocking the bottle against his hip.

Juice rolled his eyes. "None of my concern til you need me to look up something, right?"

Tig took another swallow of liquor before setting the bottle back on the bar. "You feelin' used, brother?"

He received an eyeroll in response. "I mean, it wouldn't kill you to show your appreciation, would it?"

"Appreciation?" Tig scoffed and settled the bottle of liquor on the bar before he grabbed his crotch. "That offer to let me dip my balls in your mouth is always open. Maybe that'll help, take the edge off for us both."

Juice scowled and hopped off the stool. "Screw you, brother, why do you do that shit?" He didn't wait for a response before stalking back to his dorm.

The darker man chuckled, adjusting himself before taking another swig. Sometimes these guys were just too fucking easy.

* * *

><p>"Opie."<p>

He glanced up from the bike to see Gemma walking toward him, a paper in her hand. "What's up, Gem?" he asked quietly, pushing himself to his feet. He noticed she looked hesitant, maybe even apprehensive, which were two things that Gemma Teller-Morrow didn't often convey. "What's wrong?"

She reached up, pulling her glasses off her nose. "What's going on with Shelby?" she asked gently.

His brow furrowed at the unexpected question. "What do you mean?" he asked, settling his wrench to the side.

Gemma regarded him carefully, her eyes on his face, concern obvious in her expression. "I mean, you've been spending a lot of time with her, baby," she explained.

Opie shook his head, scratching his neck. "I'm not Jax, Gemma," he reminded her. "I don't need you to take care of me."

She chuckled. "You've been through a hell of a lot and that makes people make mistakes," she continued, leaning her hip against the shelving behind her. "And I don't want to see that for you. You may not be my son, but I love you enough to not want to see you get hurt. Just like I love all my boys."

He scoffed. "I do appreciate you looking out for me, but it's not like that with Shelby," he assured her, snagging a rag from his back pocket and running it over the tank of the bike. "She's just… helping me through."

Gemma couldn't help the quiet snort that escaped. "She seems like she'd be good at that," she muttered.

Opie sighed. "How about you just tell me what you came out here to say?" he asked.

The older woman held out the paper to him. "See for yourself," she replied.

He shot her a confused look, his fingers closing on the document. He moved it to his eyeline, skimming it quickly, his brow furrowing with confusion. He glanced up at Gemma. "So, it's not hers?" he asked, though he knew the answer.

"It's not her name on the title and it's listed as stolen," she replied. "So, I'd say no… and you know we can't work on stolen property. Really, you've probably done more than we really should." She gently patted his shoulder, pressing her lips to his temple. "Think it would be best to get the bike back to her and send her back where she came, don't you?" She didn't wait for a response before heading back to the office.

Opie frowned, his eyes moving over the paper at a slower speed, soaking up the information. She'd lied to him. But, she had to know he was going to find out, had to know they would run her information… she wasn't that stupid to think she could hide it. But why would she steal? What the hell was going on?

* * *

><p>"<em>Billy Mays here-"<em>

"_It's Jake from St-"_

"_On the next Days-"_

Shelby let out a grunt, switching off the television and tossing the remote onto the coffee table. She was getting so restless and her bike had been gone less than a day. She was stuck on Amber's couch, mooching off the porn star until she could figure her next move. She hated this, hated depending on other people.

The brunette looked at her phone for what must have been the thousandth time. Still no call from TM. She grit her teeth, her fingers clenching around the hard plastic. She felt like a sitting duck without her bike. She didn't have any plans to move on, but she also didn't like not having the easy get away if she found she had no other choice.

Shelby glanced up at the sound of a quiet knock at the door, her brow furrowed in confusion. Most people Amber knew were in the business… they'd know she was on set. The girl felt a knot form in her stomach. Maybe they were there for her…

"Shelby? You in there?"

She let out a sigh of relief at the sound of Opie's voice. She shoved herself off the couch, moving to the door and pulling it open, a smile on her lips. "Yeah, hey… I didn't expect a personal visit."

He forced a smile in response. "Mind if I come in for a bit?"

The brunette glanced past him to see her bike on the back of the tow truck. "Sure… my ride's done that fast?" she asked, moving to the side to let him in.

Opie cleared his throat, stepping into the house, letting her close the door behind him. "Not quite," he replied quietly, shaking his head.

Shelby couldn't help but frown. "Op, what is it?" she asked, settling her hand on his bicep.

He glanced at her hand before lifting his head to meet her gaze. She felt her stomach drop at his expression. Oh, God… did he know…?

"Gemma ran your bike… we have to do that with every piece that comes in," he explained, leaning back against the wall, his arms crossed tight over his chest. "Procedure, just to be sure everything's on the up, y'know?'

The brunette felt her stomach drop at the explanation and the look in his eye. "Okay… so?"

Opie furrowed his brow. "That's not your bike, is it?" he asked, his voice soft, but she could hear the frustration laced in his tone, the possible fury that was brewing.

Shelby swallowed. "I told you, it was a gift," she murmured, sinking onto the couch, her back against the arm.

He scowled, his eyes narrowed. "Then why was it reported stolen less than three days before you showed up in Charming? Reported by the same guy who has his name on the title?"

"Guess he didn't like that I wanted to take a trip out to Charming," she replied, shrugging her slender shoulders, her nails absently picking at a ball of lint on the couch. She lifted her gaze to meet Opie's. "I'm not a thief, Op, and I'm not dumb enough to let you find out something like that in such a way."

He regarded her carefully, trying to gauge if she was being honest with him. He wanted to believe her, didn't want to believe that she would be so careless. But her answers were too easy. He opened his mouth to argue but was cut off as his phone went off in his pocket.

Shelby watched as Opie lifted his phone to his ear. She chewed on her lower lip, her gaze focused, but her thoughts elsewhere. She could see he was struggling, trying to decide what to believe. She didn't want to lie to him. She'd thought she had more time before Bryant would have realized she was gone, time to get the bike fixed, settle back in so she'd have protection. She should have known better than to trust that sort of luck.

Opie pocketed his phone, wiping his palms on his denim clad thighs. "I have to get back to TM," he told her. "But I want us to talk later… you around tonight?"

Shelby shrugged. "I assume that the bike isn't taken care of, so I really have nowhere I can go," she replied, trying to keep her tone light. "So, if you're willing to come by, I should be available."

He moved across the room carefully, stopping in front of her to crouch down to eye level. "Are you in trouble?" he asked, his hands resting on her knees, his eyes searching her expression. "You don't have to give me any details, but I need to know if you need help."

Her jaw set as they stared at each other. Shelby wanted to tell him everything, but she wasn't ready… she probably wouldn't ever be ready. She didn't know how Opie would take it and she couldn't be the one to pile on him, not so soon after Donna… "I'm fine, Opie," she reassured him, resting a hand on his cheek and giving him a forced smile. "I promise you that everything is okay… it's just a misunderstanding."

He didn't believe her. His gut told him he couldn't believe what she was telling him. But he knew he couldn't force anything out of her. He let out a quiet sigh before leaning forward to press a kiss to her forehead. He pulled her into a hug, crushing her slight form to him. "Okay," he whispered, his face pressed to her hair. He slowly let go of her and moved to his full height. "I'll call you before I come pick you up… we'll get some dinner, okay?"

Shelby nodded. "Looking forward to it," she replied. They shared one last smile before he made his way out of the house.

* * *

><p>Tig watched Opie drive off after moving the bike off the truck. He frowned behind his sunglasses, drumming his fingers on the handlebars of his Dyna, his eyes shifting over towards the house.<p>

He hadn't been able to help his curiosity when he'd noticed the younger man loading the bike up, knowing there was no way that the piece had been finished, not with the damages to the extent they had been. That could only mean one of two things… either the man had given up hope of repair or he wasn't able to work on it due to whatever Gemma had pulled up on the vehicle. Due to Opie's fascination and ties to the girl, he could only assume the latter and why he had stayed in the house.

He hadn't intended to stay and wait. He'd only wanted to find out where the girl was staying, just in case he needed to keep an eye on her. But he hadn't been able to bring himself to leave, not right away.

Tig perked up as Shelby appeared in the doorway, slowly making her way down the sidewalk. She stopped beside the bike, her back to him. He noted the tension in her frame, the tightness in her fists as she curled her fingers into her palms. His eyebrow raised as a yell cut through the air and her foot slammed into the bike, making it topple to the side. She fell to the ground, her face cradled in her hands and even from his distance he could hear the angry sobs as they tore from her throat.

"What are you hiding, little girl?" he muttered, leaning forward on his bike, still watching intently. "What's gotcha so angry?"


	7. Love, Money, Party

**Author's Note: **Well, I didn't expect to post 7 so quickly, but it came pretty easily, so why not? I think I'm just ready to get to chapter 8 (which I should stop building up to prevent possible disappointment). Anyway, not much to say, so thank you as always to all of you that read, favorited, followed, reviewed... special thanks to **mrsreedus69, OnTheWildside** for taking the time to post a review. Always nice to read kind words. :) Onward...

**Disclaimer: **I have no claim to SOA, Opie, Tig, etc. Those rights belong to Kurt Sutter, Ryan Hurst, Kim Coates, etc. But thank you to them for bringing them to my life, ha. 'Madness' belongs to Muse, 'Love, Money, Party' is Miley Cyrus (it's the lyrics, _okay_?). All I can truly lay claim to is Shelby.

'_**Money ain't nothin' but money, when you get to the money, ain't nothin' but money… love ain't nothin' but love, when you learn how to love, ain't nothin' but love… party ain't nothin' but a party, when you party everyday, ain't nothin' but a party… love, money, party...'**_

"Remember when we snuck all that beer into the house? And we had to dump it when my parents came home early?"

Opie threw back his head and laughed at the memory, his chuckles coming stronger at the sound of Shelby's giggles. "I thought your dad was going to kill me when he found the cans in the trash…"

The brunette grinned, handing him a fresh beer before sitting on the couch next to him. "I had to give you and Donna an appropriate engagement celebration," she pointed out, taking a swallow of her own brew.

He shot her a skeptical look, trying to ignore the ache he felt at his late wife's name. "I still don't know how you got your hands on 12 cases of PBR at 16," he replied.

Shelby grinned and pointed at her chest. "I had a rack and I wasn't afraid to use it."

Opie cleared his throat, forcing his eyes to stay on her face. "I guess that would come in useful."

She rested her temple against the couch cushion, her body turned towards Opie. "I missed Charming," she admitted, her nails picking at the label of her bottle.

He nodded, staring down at his own drink. "Charming missed you," he replied, his voice quiet. He had intended to pick her up, take her to dinner, and find a way to force her to tell him what was going on with her, answer his questions. But those plans had gone by the wayside when she'd been behind him on his bike, her arms wrapped around his waist, her cheek resting on his back as he seemed to automatically find himself driving towards his own home.

It had been a long time since he'd had a woman on the back of his bike. Really, probably before he'd been sent to Chino State. Donna hadn't been on the bike since he'd been back. He figured the machine served as a painful reminder as to why he'd been gone for five years.

But he loved having a woman on his bike… the trust they were putting in him, the control he had as he took turns, the powerful metal between his thighs. And having the woman be Shelby seemed to be even more right than it should have been.

"Did _you _miss me?"

Opie's gaze shifted as Shelby's soft voice broke through his thoughts. Her green eyes were cast downward, focusing on the couch cushion between them. He had missed her… more than he probably should have given their history. He'd kept it quiet, hadn't mentioned her name in years, knowing the memories would upset Donna… but that didn't change that he thought about the younger Lerner sister almost daily… even more when he'd been stuck with only his own thoughts during his prison stay.

Cautiously, Opie reached out, wrapping an arm around the brunette to pull her to his side, letting her head rest against his chest. "Everyday," he finally replied, laying his cheek on the top of her head. "Missed you every Goddamn day…"

Shelby let out a quiet sigh, letting her eyes slip shut as she let herself almost melt into Opie's embrace. She felt tears burn beneath her eyelids as his hand gently moved over her back. She tried not to let his words affect her, knowing he didn't realize how much she wanted and needed to hear them. She knew he didn't understand that it was more than just a sibling love for her, even after all this time. She loved Opie, always had… Even though he hadn't been able to return it, she had loved him. As much as she wanted him to want her back, she knew it wasn't the time, that Donna's death was still fresh for him. Really, at the end of the day, he'd chosen Donna over her before… what was to say he wouldn't choose her sister's memory?

"What are you thinking?"

Her eyes slowly opened, focusing across the room. Did she tell him? Did she take that risk, lay everything on the line?

She moved to sit up, only inches separating them as she looked down at him, his head resting against the cushion as he stared back at her. She opened her mouth to reply, her stomach in her throat. Before she could reply, she felt her phone vibrate in her pocket, interrupting the moment.

"Just a second," she murmured, reaching into her pocket and pulling her phone out. She glanced down at the screen and frowned when she didn't recognize the number.

"Everything alright?" he asked, shifting his body towards her.

She glanced up and forced a smile. "Yeah, everything's good… you mind if I take this?" she asked, lifting the phone. "I just wanna make sure everything's okay?"

He waved her off, taking a pull from his beer. "Take your time, I'll be here."

The brunette nodded, lifting her body from the couch. She moved down the hallway before pressing a button and lifting the plastic to her ear. "Hello?" she asked cautiously, her voice low.

"_Sup bitch?" _the voice on the other end greeted.

Shelby's eyes widened as she recognized the rasp. "Omigod, _Cherry_? Is that _you_?"

She received a scoff in response. _"Of course it's me, who else would call you that?"_

Shelby ducked into the bathroom, gently shutting the door behind her. "I can't believe you're calling me… I didn't think I'd ever hear from you after everything."

"_Well, I wish I could say this was just a social call, but it's a little more dire."_

She slowly sat down on the toilet seat, her elbows resting on her knees. "What's wrong?"

"_Are you in Charming?"_

Shelby hesitated. How the hell would Cherry know that? "Yeah, I am actually… My sister, Donna, she was… well, she was killed… thought I should come home… plus… well, you saw how Bryant was before you left… and really, it only got worse."

Cherry let out a frustrated sigh. _"I was afraid you would say that… Do you happen to know a Tig?"_

She stiffened at the name. "Why?" she asked suspiciously, her eyes narrowed.

"_He called me... had a lot of questions about you…"_

Shelby grit her teeth and squeezed her eyes shut. "Did you tell him anything?" she asked quietly, pinching the bridge of her nose between her first two fingers.

Cherry let out a scoff. _"Of course not. I know better than that and except for maybe Sack, it's not like I owe SAMCRO anything… but it's not like that information would be all that hard to find, y'know?"_

"Shit," she hissed. "You think you were just one of the first stops on his list?"

"_Yeah, I do._" Cherry paused. _ "You know how MC guys are... They don't just stop… if he wants information, he's going to find it, especially if he thinks you're a threat."_

Shelby couldn't help but be confused. "A threat? A threat to what?"

"_SAMCRO."_

* * *

><p>"You gonna go a round in the ring with me tonight?"<p>

Tig glanced to his left at the sound of Happy's rasp. "Nah, brother, not tonight," he replied with a grin, clinking his beer bottle against the Killer's. "Last time I got in with you, I was outta commission for a couple of days, couldn't give these crows a taste of Tigger juice."

Happy let out a snort. "Means you're gettin' old."

The older man shoved him lightly. "Fuck you, Hap, you ain't so far behind."

He received a stony glare in response. "I ain't the one sayin' I can't play." He grabbed a shot, throwing it back. "You change your mind, you know where to find me, brother."

Tig watched his friend go, draining what was left of his brew. He figured Happy would find an opponent fairly easily. He was hoping to stay clear headed, had things he wanted to figure out. Last time he and Hap had gone a few rounds, he'd ended up with a concussion from one too many blows to the temple. He wasn't a pussy by any means, but with the Shelby issue, he had to stay on his A-game.

"Prospect, another beer," he snapped over his shoulder, his intense gaze traveling over the mass of people in the clubhouse. Brothers… crows… hangers… He noted that Opie was missing and recalled the man hurrying out after the garage closed, only taking time to say a quick goodbye to Jax.

"Need anything else, Tig?" Half-Sack asked, the typical nervousness in his tone as he set a fresh bottle down.

He didn't take the time to reply, grabbing the beer and shoving himself off the bar. He had better things to do then contemplate where Opie was getting his dick wet and one of those 'things' was smiling at him across the clubhouse.

* * *

><p>Shelby was livid. She rested her knuckles on the marble of the sink, staring holes into the drain. That fuckin' piece of shit was looking into her. If he was going through her contacts back in Nevada, it would only be a matter of time before Bryant figured out where she was. Tig would lead him right to her Goddamn door and best case scenario, she'd be killed on the spot.<p>

She violently twisted the faucet on and splashed cold water on her face, trying to calm down. She should have planned better, prepared herself. She'd only figured she'd have to deal with Opie, maybe Jax, and she could handle them. She hadn't been ready to have to face anyone else in SAMCRO... especially no one so determined...

"Hey Shel, you alright?"

The brunette glanced over at the closed door at the sound of Opie's voice and the gentle rapping of his knuckles. She was far from alright… but she couldn't tell him that. He'd ask too many questions. And she'd be too weak not to answer them. She exhaled a deep breath and plastered a smile on her face, pulling the door open. "Yeah, I'm good what's up?'

He eyed her curiously. "You sure? Your phone call go okay?"

She gave him a nod. "Yeah, just an old friend, wanted to say hi."

She could tell he didn't necessarily believe her, but he chose to let it go. "Listen, I just got a call that I need to go to the clubhouse." He gave her an apologetic shrug. "I don't want to cut this short, but you know how it goes…"

Shelby nodded. "When _SAMCRO_ says jump, you don't even ask how high, I know the drill," she replied. "Jax?"

Opie nodded, stepping back to let her out of the bathroom. "He's dealing with some shit, wants some help… you want me to take you back to Amber's?"

She contemplated her options for a moment. "Actually… can I come to the clubhouse with you?" she asked.

He furrowed his brow in confusion. "The clubhouse? Why would you wanna go there?" He couldn't imagine what could possibly be there for her.

Shelby shrugged. "I mean, it's Saturday, right? Means things should be in the full swing… and I haven't seen Jax since I've been back… wouldn't mind saying hi." She scratched at the side of her neck. "And it saves you a trip, doesn't it?"

Opie let out a quiet huff. "Makes sense," he finally replied. "Jax has asked about you a couple times," he admitted.

* * *

><p>"Shelly Bean!"<p>

Tig perked up at the sound of Jax's voice over the crowd, drawing his attention away from Randi's wandering hands. His focus moved to the entrance of the clubhouse and his eyes widened in surprise to see Opie and Shelby walking through the crowd towards the VP. He hadn't expected to see the two of them, not here. But he wasn't exactly disappointed either.

* * *

><p>"Jack in the Box," Shelby greeted as the blond wrapped his arms around her waist, pulling her into a tight hug that lifted her off the ground. "That's still a terrible nickname."<p>

He chuckled into her hair as he set her down, giving her one last squeeze. "Serves you right for not being sure to see me first." He took a step back. "A little age looks good on you, Shel."

She rolled her eyes. "Are you hitting on me, 'cause I can't tell."

Jax met Opie's eyes over her head. "Still got that Lerner 'tude, I see."

The bearded man chuckled, looping an arm over Shelby's shoulders. "Family trait… Ellie's going to be just as bad."

Shelby couldn't help but zone out as the two men seemed to forget she was even there as they bantered back and forth. She didn't mind, she wasn't so much there for the company. Her eyes scanned the crowd absently, trying to find anyone of interest.

She felt herself bristle as her gaze locked with Tig's, a smirk playing over his lips as he watched her, a mostly naked blonde practically plastered to his side. He lifted his beer in greeting, his crystal eyes sparkling with mischief. She felt her own lips curl, her blood boiling at the fury that she had managed to stifle on the ride over.

"Shel?"

Shelby shook herself out of her daze as Opie nudged her, her eyes meeting Jax's. "What's up?" she asked.

The blond grinned. "You seem a little distracted, darlin'," he pointed out. "I asked if you could fend for yourself while I borrow Opie for a bit."

The brunette shrugged. "I'm a big girl, I think I can manage," she replied. "You going to be here or will I have to find a ride home?"

Jax snagged Chibs by the collar as the man was walking by. "If we're not back, this good man should be able to take care of ya," he told her, punching the Scot in the chest lightly.

Shelby let her gaze travel over the man and shrugged, figuring he looked harmless enough, even with the scarring on his cheeks. "I could do worse," she remarked.

"What are ya havin' me do, Jackie boy?" Chibs asked, glancing between the three.

"Might need you to give this lovely lady a lift," Jax explained, gesturing at Shelby. "She doesn't have a ride out of here because I'm stealing Opie off her."

The Scot glanced at Shelby. "Ya alright with that, sweetheart?" he asked politely, lifting a cigarette to his lips, taking a drag and blowing the smoke towards the ceiling.

"All depends how you're gonna make me earn that ride," she repliedwith a smirk.

He chuckled and looked at Opie. "Dis is one o' yers den?" he asked.

The younger man shrugged. "I guess I can claim her," he replied, grunting as he received an elbow to the stomach.

"I don't need claimed," she muttered, tilting her head back to look at him.

He gave her a shrug and a look of innocence before turning his attention back to Jax. "Ready, brother?"

The blond nodded, giving Shelby one last hug. "Try and behave, will ya, Bean?"

She wrinkled her nose before giving Jax a squeeze and a kiss on the cheek. "Where's the fun in that?" she asked.

Both boys chuckled before making their way out of the clubhouse, leaving Shelby alone with the Scot. "So, you're my chaperone?" she asked as the man slipped his arm over her shoulder, offering her his cigarette.

"I prefer ya just see me as 'Chibs', but whatever yer wantin' ta call it, love," he replied, giving her a grin and a wink as she pinched the cylinder between her fingers, taking a drag.

Shelby chuckled, trying to ignore the way she could feel Tig's stare across the room. "Get me a drink and I'll see you however you want," she teased, giving him a smile, handing back the smoke.

"And how can I turn down dat offer?" he replied, tucking the cigarette between his lips and guiding her towards the bar. "Prospect! Two beers, wouldya?"

* * *

><p>"I need to talk to you."<p>

Tig glanced over to see Shelby beside him, her green eyes narrowed and glazed, her fingers tight around a glass of what looked like bourbon. "Is that right, doll?" he asked, casually lifting his own shot glass to his lips, pouring the liquor down his throat, welcoming the burn. "You aren't falling into anything with our Scottish boy? Or are ya just makin' your rounds and I'm next?"

The brunette grit her teeth, the man in front of her blurring just a bit. "Fuck you," she hissed, trying to keep the slurring from her voice. She glanced around the clubhouse, making sure the crowd was otherwise engaged, breathing a quiet sigh of relief that no one was paying her or Tig any sort of attention. "I need to talk to you," she repeated, moving her eyes back to meet his. "Alone."

The side of Tig's mouth quirked. "If you want that, I'm gonna need you to make it worth my while since I'll lose the pussy I've been warming," he told her, giving Randi a wink as she waited across the room.

Shelby followed his gaze and couldn't help but sneer. "I would have thought you liked to work a little harder than that," she remarked, eyeing the croweater with distaste. "But I guess easy would be your type, wouldn't it?" She lifted her drink to her mouth, taking a swallow.

"Aww, baby, ya jealous?" he teased. He settled his empty glass on the bartop, wiping his hands on his jeans. He made his way away from the bar towards the dorms. He had only gone a few steps before he glanced back to see Shelby still standing where he'd left her, watching him with a scowl. "If ya wanna talk, let's go," he told her before turning and continuing his path.


	8. Bad Romance

**Author's Note: **Here it is... the infamous chapter 8 that I've been building. Feels like I've been waiting to post this a lot longer than I have, haha. I hope you aren't disappointed with this, but at the same time, I feel like it was building quite a bit. I wanna thank anyone who has read/favorited/followed/reviewed. I'm glad you're seeming to enjoy this saga. Special thank you to **mrsreedus69, OnTheWildside, FuckMyLife1989, Guest **for taking the time to review. You guys are the best. And one last thank you to **siarh**for looking this over.**  
><strong>

This is smut. Pure, unadulterated smut. There is a sprinkling of plot because of what it's already a part of, but if you're not into dirty, filthy smut, you might as well just wait for the next chapter. I also wonder (if you're not into that), why you're reading my stuff since that's all I seem to manage anymore, ha. Also, if any sort of 'knife play' or the idea of 'sexual violence' bothers you, you may want to step away as well. But, this is Sons of Anarchy... it's to be expected, especially considering the players, yes?

**Disclaimer: **I have no claim to SOA, Opie, Tig, etc. Those rights belong to Kurt Sutter, Ryan Hurst, Kim Coates, etc. But thank you to them for bringing them to my life, ha. 'Madness' belongs to Muse, 'Bad Romance' belongs to 30 Seconds to Mars (that's the preferable version and where these specific lyrics come from anyway). All I can truly lay claim to is Shelby.

_**'I want your love, I want your disease… I want you open mouthed and on your knees… I want your psycho, your vertigo kiss, I want you in my bed, I'll make you sick, I want your love...'**_

Tig shut the door, turning the lock. He watched Shelby as she stalked across the room, her hand still tight on her glass, her body rigid with what was seeming to be constant tension. "You really need to relax, doll."

She spun on her heel, her eyes narrowed and seeming to almost shoot green fire. "Excuse me?" she spat, lifting the glass to her lips.

He smirked, casually crossing the room to stop in front of her, his own fingers moving over hers to take the drink from her mouth. "You've been tense since the second you got into town. Just relax."

She gave him a sneer. "I can't imagine you're too concerned about whether I'm tense or not. Otherwise, you'd leave me the fuck alone."

He raised an eyebrow, taking a swallow of her bourbon, letting the taste of her that lingered on the glass mix with the liquor, rolling the flavor over his tongue. "You wanted to get me alone, baby, not the other way around," he pointed out after he swallowed. He pressed the drink back into her hand. "So, really, who's not leaving who alone?"

Shelby glared up at him, her body thrumming from her buzz mixed with the fury that had been building since her phone call with Cherry. "Why are you looking into me?"

"Hmm?" he hummed, much too casually, making her anger spike as he took a few steps away from her, those intense eyes still pinning her in place.

"I know you're calling people, asking them about me," she continued, her alcohol moving with each word, drops of liquor splashing to the floor. "I want to know why."

Tig rubbed a thumb over his bottom lip, watching her carefully. He should have figured Cherry would clue her in. He'd known the gash hadn't been as innocent as she tried to play over the phone. "I like to get to know our Charming newcomers," he replied. "Ain't no harm in some research. You have something to hide?"

"Don't you have better things to do with your time?" she hissed, slamming the glass on the desk beside her.

He smirked, watching the way she was getting herself worked into such a tizzy as he barely lifted a finger. He leaned against the wall behind him, his hands resting on his belt, his fingers framing his crotch. He stayed quiet, watching the young woman as her anger seemed to escalate with each passing moment.

Shelby couldn't stay still and the way his eyes were watching her, she felt like her skin was on fire, like he was burning the surface away, seeing inside her. She'd never felt anything like it and she wanted to hate it, but deep down it was almost a welcoming feeling which only managed to fuel her fire even more. She was growing to hate Tig… mostly because she actually didn't and she wasn't sure why, since he was doing everything he possibly could to make it that she should.

Tig could practically feel the girl's tremors across the room. He savored it, loving the way he was getting under her skin. Her eyes practically glowed, her skin flushed…

"Who's your prez? Clay, right? Maybe I'll just plead my case to him, ask him to call his dog off."

The man's eyes narrowed at her words and the veiled threat. "Better choose your next words carefully, darlin'," he murmured, his voice low.

Shelby had been grasping at straws, but by his immediate reaction, she knew she'd managed to grab the right one. Considering she had yet to meet the charter president, she had to assume that Tig was working on his own. "Can't imagine your little club would be too thrilled with you using their resources like this… especially when I have Opie in my pocket-"

"You need to shut that Goddamn mouth of yours about things you know nothing about," Tig snarled, his hand closing over the knife at his hip. "'less you want me to chop you to pieces, that should keep you quiet."

Shelby snorted, snatching her bourbon from the desk, lifting it to her mouth with such force that it splashed over the sides before she took a sip. "Fuck you, Tig," she gasped around the liquor, slamming the glass back down. "You don't fuckin' scare me."

Tig bared his teeth, a wave of his own fury washing over him. This bitch had the nerve to threaten him? Threaten him with his own Goddamn club? He wasn't gonna let some fuckin' out of nowhere croweater give him shit like this no matter who she might have to back her up. "I don't know who the fuck you think you are, sugar, but you're just some fuckin' cunt and you need to learn your place."

Shelby let out a bark of laughter. The gash fuckin' laughed. And that's when Tig saw red. He moved across the floor and shoved her into the wall, taking pride at the way she winced and the sound of her head meeting the wood as his weight pinned her in place. He slipped his blade from its sheath and pressed it to her throat just enough to rise a line of her blood along the skin. "What did I just say?" he snarled, his face only inches from hers, their noses brushing, eyes locked.

They stared at each other, watching as their breathing became more labored. Tig expected to see fear in her eyes or something, but there was nothing that he could read in her green orbs. And just when he thought she couldn't surprise him, she pressed her throat a bit harder into the blade and his eyes moved downward to watch as a drop of blood ran from her throat to the valley between her breasts.

"Does it look like I'm concerned about what you may or may not have to say to me?" she challenged, running a finger over the back of the blade.

Tig's eyes widened and he lifted his gaze to meet her glazed green eyes. "Bitch, you might be fuckin' crazier than I am."

She gave him a smirk but before she could reply, his mouth slammed over hers, his teeth cutting her lip. He slipped his knife back into place before closing his hand over her throat, smearing the crimson over her skin.

Shelby clawed at his cut before snaring a hand in his hair, pulling his head back. "You done?" she taunted, her eyes on his mouth, her lower lip between her teeth.

He sneered at her. "Stop fuckin' talking." He shut her up with his mouth again. His hand tore at her shirt, ripping the thin fabric down the center, his blunt nails scratching over her skin, leaving angry red trails in their wake.

She groaned against his mouth, hitching her leg around his and pulling him closer, knocking him off balance, his other hand slamming against the wall by her head.

"So you like pain, huh?" Tig practically growled, his hand gripping her throat just a bit tighter, not giving her the air to voice a response, forcing her head back against the wall, the fingers of his other hand curling into the grain. He felt his cock stir as she struggled to breathe. "Oh, this is gonna be fun," he muttered, nipping at her lip as he casually loosened his grip and savored the sound of struggled breathing as the oxygen flowed back into her lungs.

It had been a long time since Tig had managed to find a partner that would indulge his darker side, appeal to the sadist that everyone knew hovered just beneath the surface. While he didn't mind the usual run of the mill fuck, he would be lying if he didn't admit his preference for a little torture, a taste of dominance. Most croweaters seemed to shy away from his darker tendencies.

Shelby let out a hiss as he pressed his thumb into the cut his knife had made and a shudder ran through both of them as his nail caught against the small flap of skin the blade had left behind, a bit of fresh blood staining the digit. She could feel his cock hard and hot between them, practically burning her through his denim and she couldn't help but arch her hips closer. "Fuck," she breathed, crushing her lips back to his, her fingers tangling in his curls.

As his tongue tangled with hers and their teeth clashed, Tig felt his cock throb against his zipper as she rubbed against him like a cat in heat. He contemplated how much more blood she would let him draw, imagining them both covered in the thick crimson liquid of life as he sunk deep inside her.

Tig was brought back to the moment by a flash of pain as Shelby's nails dug into the back of his own neck at his hairline. His eyes moved to hers and she gave him a smirk. "You gonna keep toying with me or just fuck me already?" she hissed, her eyes sparkling. "That's what you've been wanting, isn't it? Why you can't leave me alone? Why you're so interested in why I'm here?"

He gave her another sneer, grabbing her roughly to pull her from the wall, tossing her on the bed behind him. He ripped his belt through the buckle and pulled it from his jeans, flicking it against the floor. "You gonna make me have to gag you?" he asked, tilting his head to the side and pulling the leather taut between his hands.

Shelby leaned back on her elbows, her fingers trailing over the cut at her throat. "You might need my mouth later, don't you think?" she retorted, smoothing her tongue over her lower lip, her eyes traveling down his body to rest at the bulge between his legs.

Christ, this bitch was pushing all the right buttons. And she wanted fucking Opie? There was no way that kid could handle a bitch like this.

Tig tossed his belt to the side, noting where it fell. He reached out, wrapping his hand around her ankle and pulling her to the edge of the bed. He gestured to his crotch before tucking his thumbs into his belt loops. "Never said what I was gonna gag you with," he shot back.

She pursed her lips, looking up at him with narrowed eyes. Before she could open her mouth to give him a sarcastic retort, his hand grabbed her chin, his fingers digging into her jaw. He moved his other hand to his jeans, popping the button and sliding his hand in to haul out his cock, letting out a hiss as he touched the turgid flesh. He indicated with his eyes what she should do next, but he still wasn't prepared when she closed her mouth around his member, making his eyes roll back at the wet heat and suction surrounding his dick.

Shit, she had only had him in her mouth for a few seconds, but he could tell she knew what she was doing down there. Not only that, she did it enthusiastically, letting the blunt head hit the back of her throat and taking it like a champ. "Fuckin' shit," he gasped, his hand moving to the back of her head and shoving her mouth further down on his cock. He glanced down and met her gaze, tears streaming down her cheeks and drool running out of the corners of her mouth. "Fuckin' gorgeous," he snarled, snapping his hips to fuck her mouth, his fingers curling in her dark hair.

He felt her throat ripple around the head of his cock and he saw the way her body jerked as she gagged, but she didn't stop. If anything she worked harder, trying to shove even more of his prick down her throat, her tongue fluttering around him. "Goddamn cockslut," he complimented, his voice just above a growl. "Let daddy fuck your mouth."

Shelby let out a whimper at his words, wrapping a hand around the base of his cock. She slipped her right hand beneath her leggings, letting her fingers stroke at her clit. She slipped a digit inside her soaked cunt, aching for some sort of relief as his cock moved in and out of her mouth.

Tig watched her face, sure he'd found his new favorite color as he watched her face flush and he nearly came on the spot as he realized where her one hand had disappeared to. She stared up at him, nostrils flaring, his hands still locked on her jaw and in her hair. He let out a grunt as her teeth dragged over him and she managed to give him a smirk, even though she was stuffed full of cock. He thrust into her mouth in retaliation, holding her head in place and groaning as her hands moved to his thighs, pushing against him as she struggled to breathe, choking around him.

He stayed there just long enough before yanking her off his cock with enough force that she fell back on the bed, her chest heaving under her ruined shirt. He moved over her, straddling her thighs to pin her in place. He wrapped one of his hands around his soaked and dripping cock as he stared down her, taking in the almost purple shade of red painting her face, making the blackened streaks of tears pop against her skin. Her green eyes almost glowed, the whites riddled with red. Her lips shined with saliva and precome, drops running from the corners.

"Told you I was gonna gag you," he muttered, squeezing his cock at the base. He wasn't a man known for apologies, but he wasn't downright inhumane. He enjoyed ripping people apart in any sort of way, but when it came to his sexual proclivities, he preferred to be sure it was consensual. Just wasn't worth it otherwise.

Shelby sat up on her elbows, the head of his cock nudging her stomach. She moved a hand to her mouth, sliding a wet finger over her lips. She leaned in, pressed her mouth over his roughly, her teeth snagging his lower lip and pulling.

Tig groaned at sweet taste of their mixed juices as they exploded over his tongue. He tightened his grip on his dick, pushing her back on the bed and relishing the metallic taste of his own blood as her teeth tore the skin of his lip. He moved off the bed, standing up so he could slip his blade out of its sheath.

"And just what are you going to do with that?" she rasped, her eyes on the knife.

Tig felt his prick twitch at the sound of her voice, taking pride in the fact that it was his cock that made her sound that way. "Oh, this?" he asked, feigning innocence as he lifted his hand, staring at the blade and admiring the way it caught the light, a smear of Shelby's now dried blood along the edge. His icy eyes flashed back to hers, his head still turned towards the knife. "What do you think I may do with it?"

Shelby's eyes narrowed and she crossed her legs, but he noted her slight shift, a smirk pulling at his mouth as he realized how soaked she must be. "If I knew, I wouldn't have asked," she countered, giving a sigh of annoyance and impatience as she leaned back on her palms.

Tig gave her a thin smile, but inside he was practically dancing. She was still a willing participant in this game and he was going to enjoy every Goddamn minute. He gave his cock a cursory jerk before lifting his hand, dragging the blade against his palm, testing the edge. He glanced up, eyeing her for a moment. Quick as a snake, before she even had time to react, he used the knife to slice each bra strap before taking the blade to the center of the garment.

She glared up at him as the lace fluttered from her chest. "I would have taken it off if you had just taken the time to ask," she snapped as he shoved her ruined shirt off her shoulders, brushing her bra to the side.

"And what fun would that have been for me?" he asked, pressing her back on the mattress. He slowly dragged the blade down her throat, following the path of her naked torso. He took the time to trace each nipple, pressing the tip of the knife against each peak enough to make her gasp at the pinch before continuing down her stomach. He used just enough pressure to let his blade slice through the thin fabric of her leggings, but was sure to not cut the skin underneath… not yet anyway. When he was satisfied, he settled the weapon back in place at his hip, tearing the garment away from her lower half, leaving her in nothing but a pristine white thong.

He slid his blade under the soaked crotch of her panties, slipping it between her lips to let the cool metal slide over her clit. His cock nearly throbbed as she let out a moan, her legs spreading even wider. "Where the fuck have you been all my life?" he muttered, carefully removing the blade to slice the fabric at her hips, leaving her completely exposed on the bed while he was still mostly clothed, his cock jutting out from the zipper of his jeans.

He let his eyes move over her skin, wanting to run his knife (followed by his tongue) over every inch of peaches and cream flesh he could reach. He wanted to make cuts that matched the slice on her throat in different patterns on her skin and watch the bright red lines bloom. He took note of the different tattoos and scars, telling a story that he secretly couldn't wait to read, much to his own surprise.

Tig took a deep inhale as he settled his knife on the bed beside her, savoring the scent of woman and the anticipation of sex in the air. He was never one to really be concerned if his partner got off… if they did, that was just an added bonus (for them). But he loved the smell and sometimes he couldn't help but bury his face between their thighs, just to see if they tasted as good as they smelled. He moved to his knees, wincing a bit at the unforgiving wood , before draping Shelby's knees over his shoulders, spreading her open to his hungry eyes. He could see that she was dripping, her pussy shaved and the perfect shade of pink, glistening with arousal. She was getting off on this knife play almost more than he was.

"Oh my fucking GOD," Shelby cried out as Tig went to work between her legs without warning, his mouth working her over, no hint of gentleness. His tongue seemed to be everywhere once, his facial hair rubbing her sensitive skin raw. He added his teeth to the equation every so often, scraping over her clit, making her yelp.

Jesus fuckin' Christ, this gash tasted good. Even better than she smelled, which was rare. She burst over his tongue with a hint of citrus, mixed with a sweetness he couldn't quite identify, but he just couldn't get enough. His tongue rolled over her clit before he lapped at the juices that continued to flow. He wrapped his arms around her thighs, spreading her further, fucking her with his tongue until she started to convulse around him, her body thrashing, squeals and moans erupting with a volume that would have been cause for concern had he not still been able to hear the thumping bass and other noises from the main room of the clubhouse.

Tig didn't let up, didn't slow down. He couldn't get enough of her taste, the feeling of her cunt clenching around his tongue, making his dick almost ache with envy. He tightened his arms on her thighs as he felt her trying to flee, knowing that she was too sensitive for the pace and the pressure. But that didn't stop him.

Finally, he decided he had his fill, licking up her slit one last time before pulling away, unwrapping his arms from her legs and settling her feet against the floor, keeping her legs spread. He could see the marks his fingers left behind and he couldn't wait to see the patterns of bruising that would pop up. He stood, almost looming over her as he wiped the back of his hand over his mouth. He watched as Shelby struggled to catch her breath, her body still twitching from the onslaught of sensory overload he had just given her.

"Had enough?" he asked, his hand sliding over his cock that was practically purple with need. As much as he wanted to come and paint her with ropes of white, he knew how much better it would be if he exercised just a touch more patience. He wanted to hear Shelby beg, downright plead for his cock in her cunt.

Shelby swallowed and he noticed her wince as it pulled at the cut on her throat. "It doesn't look like you're done," she rasped, still catching her breath. "So, somehow I don't think you are really concerned if I've had enough."

Tig felt the grin spread over his face as he pushed his jeans just a bit lower, just enough that he'd be able to fuck her. "You've done this before haven't you?" he asked, approaching her slowly, pulling a condom from cut and slipping it over his cock. He didn't give her a chance to respond before he slid his cock inside her and he couldn't help but groan at how tight she fit around him, her pussy sucking him deep as it adjusted to his size. He stayed still, every nerve ending screaming at him to plow into her until he exploded inside her. But not until he heard her say it. "What do you want?" he growled, grinding his teeth, beads of sweat against his brow.

"Tig," she practically whined. She tried to bare down on him, but his hands moved to her hips, holding her in place. She thrashed underneath him, trying to get him to move inside her, feel his cock drag and expand, but he wouldn't let her move.

"Just tell me what you want, sweetheart," he taunted, his thumbs digging into her hip bones.

Shelby glared up at him, her eyes wild. "Would you just fucking move already?"

Tig grinned before bending over her. He slipped a hand between them, pinching her clit, making her cry out, his teeth bearing down on her earlobe. "Just say it and I will." He gave her ear once last nip before sliding the tip of his nose over her cheek, his face to hovering over hers.

She met his gaze, her breathing labored as their eyes locked. She swallowed and lifted her head, letting their noses brush. "I've already gotten off more than once," she admitted, her voice just above a whisper, her tongue slipping out to taste his lower lip. "You're the one that should be begging to catch up."

Shelby's words slowly sunk into his brain. He realized that she was right and at some point, she had turned the game around on him, making him think that he was the one in control of their path, bending her to his whim, when in reality, she had been calling the shots, pressing back, forcing him to make decisions that appealed to what she wanted instead. And really, he had to admire that in the girl. She really was crazier than he had originally given her credit for.

He let out a laugh before pushing himself off her, his body perpendicular to hers, and he glanced down, loving the way she looked split on his cock, burning the image to his memory. "Guess you have a point there," he admitted. He'd just have to make her beg another day.

He started to move, nothing gentle, nothing slow… That was not Tig Trager. She met him thrust for thrust, her hands clawing at his chest. He let out grunt as her hands pulled and ripped at his shirt, yanking it apart so that buttons flew all over the room. Her nails scratched at his chest, her fingers gliding through his chest hair as she tried to find purchase.

He knew he wasn't going to last much longer. He could feel his balls drawing up, the come boiling inside. He just wanted to feel her come once more, see what it felt like to have her squeezing and rippling around his cock. His hand blindly reached for where he remembered setting his knife, his fingers wrapping around the hilt. His thrusting didn't slow as he pulled the blade in front of him.

Before he even had a moment to decide exactly what he was going to do, Tig felt her detonate around him, letting out a scream that was practically music to his ears. Shit, he didn't even have to touch her with the blade before she was giving him what he wanted, practically sobbing with what he could feel was an earth shattering orgasm. Her cunt milked at his cock and with a bellow, he exploded, making him freeze in place, his knife still tight in his hand.


	9. An Honest Mistake

**Author's Note: **How do I even try to follow up with 8? Ha. Hope you all enjoyed the Tigby smut and aren't too upset that she's not knocking boots with Opie (though who know what the future holds here?). Here's the morning after... sadly no smut happening. As always, thank you everyone who read/reviewed/favorited/followed. Super big special thank yous to **FuckMyLife1989,** **OnTheWildside,** **mrsreedus69 **for taking the time to review. And thank you to **siarh** for giving this a once over. Enjoy!

**Disclaimer: **I have no claim to SOA, Opie, Tig, etc. Those rights belong to Kurt Sutter, Ryan Hurst, Kim Coates, etc. But thank you to them for bringing them to my life, ha. 'Madness' belongs to Muse, 'An Honest Mistake' belongs to The Bravery. All I can truly lay claim to is Shelby and Amber.

'_**I swear I never meant for this… I never meant… Don't look at me that way… it was an honest mistake...'**_

Opie rubbed a hand over his face after shutting off his bike. "Long fucking night," he muttered, glancing at Jax beside him, the blond looking as awake as he had when they left.

The VP grinned, pulling his riding glasses from his eyes. "You need to get used to them," he pointed out, sliding off his ride. "You know how it works."

Opie let out a sigh, following his friend towards the clubhouse, rolling his shoulders to work out the kinks. "Yeah, I'm working on it," he replied, cracking his neck.

"So, you seem to be doing better," Jax observed, pulling his pack of cigarettes from his cut and offering a smoke to Opie.

The bearded man grabbed a cylinder, tucking it between his lips before giving both himself and Jax a light. "You were right, I guess… gotta try to get back to normal at some point."

The blond took a puff, a smirk playing over his lips. "Shelby Lerner helping you out with that?"

Opie cut his eyes at his friend, rolling the cylinder between his lips. "You're as bad as my old man," he complained.

Jax chuckled, pulling himself up on the picnic bench outside the clubhouse, his elbows resting on his knees. "I'm just saying, Op, you seem better since she came into town. I'm glad, whatever the reason may be."

Opie sighed, sitting next to his old friend, flicking his ash. "She's a nice distraction," he admitted, taking a puff. "For many reasons."

Jax nodded his agreement. "I can only imagine. She's come a long way since she left." He shifted his gaze, his smirk growing over his lips. "You hit it yet?"

The taller man shoved him lightly. "C'mon, man, that's my sister-in-law."

"Yeah, but she ain't your _sister_," he pointed out. "So nothing's stopping you. And you should probably lay a legitimate claim if you don't want someone else sliding in on it."

Opie snorted quietly. "My wife just died, bro," he muttered, rubbing his palm over the back of his neck. "Seems like a dick move to swoop in on her sister like that."

Jax shrugged, taking a drag. "You know as well as I do that once one of the guys gets a whiff of Shelby, all bets are off and they'll be trying to get into those panties of hers," he explained. "I just want to make sure you'll be alright with that."

The broader man lowered his eyes to the ground beneath him. He knew Jax was right. Shelby had grown up and plenty of the men in Charming would notice that, the first of which would be in the clubhouse. His eyes narrowed when he realized he'd left her with his brothers the night before and who knew what could have happened in the handful of hours he was gone.

"Hell, if it weren't for Tara, I might even give her a try…"

Opie laughed. "Shelby wouldn't touch you with ten foot pole," he replied, crushing his cigarette butt in the ashtray behind them. "And even if she would, Gemma would kill you before she let that happen."

Jax left out a chuckle of his own. "Such a waste," he lamented.

They sat in comfortable silence for several beats as Jax leisurely puffed on his cigarette. "I think she's hiding something," Opie finally admitted, breaking the quiet.

The blond's eyes cut towards his friend, concern flashing through his eyes. "Any idea what?"

Opie shook his head. "Not sure," he replied. "And it's more a feeling than anything else… It's like when she answers a question there's still a piece of it hanging in the air, like what she's telling me isn't the whole story."

"In regards to what?" Jax pressed, flicking the ash to the ground.

Opie sighed, rubbing a hand over his face and scratching his cheek. "Where she's been, why exactly she's back…" He shook his head. "I feel like she hasn't really told me anything and it's really starting to bother me."

The VP gave a shrug, reaching down to scratch his ankle. "Think you might just be paranoid? Possibly worried for nothing? I mean, you know how Shelby was when we were kids… she tended to make things bigger than they should have been, acted like everything had to be some sort of drama scene."

Opie really couldn't argue that assessment. He'd never call his sister-in-law a drama queen, but she tended to find herself in situations that most people could easily avoid and created problems where they shouldn't even exist. But that didn't mean he wasn't worried about her… They weren't kids anymore and the type of trouble that Shelby could find herself in… well, he really didn't want to think about it.

Their conversation was cut off as the door of the clubhouse was shoved open and Chibs stepped out, shading his eyes from the bright morning sun. His gaze settled on the men on the picnic table and he made his way over. "Everything go alright last night, boyos?"

Jax nodded. "Right as rain, brother," he replied. "Just had a meet up in Oakland, trying to smooth shit out."

"You get Shelby home okay?" Opie interjected, leaning forward.

The Scot furrowed his brow, slowly shaking his head. "Your girl disappeared 'bout four hours after ya both left," he replied. "Thought maybe she found anudder ride home or ya came back."

The VP frowned, pulling out another cigarette and tucking it between his lips. "We just got back here, haven't seen her," he told him, glancing at Opie. "You said she was staying with Amber? Maybe she called her to pick her up."

The hulking man shoved himself off the bench, pulling his burner from his pocket. "I'm gonna check on her, give me a minute," he responded, keying in the number and lifting the phone to his ear, walking over to the boxing ring for a bit of privacy.

* * *

><p>Shelby let out a quiet groan, the high pitched tone of her cell phone slicing through the air and her head. "Fuck," she muttered, wincing as her arm reached out of the blanket and a jolt of pain shot through her body. Gritting her teeth, she shoved herself to the edge of the bed. She blindly felt around, the tips of her fingers brushing over the leather of her bag. After exhausting effort, she finally managed to get her hands on her phone, lifting it to her ear. "Hello?" she grunted, pressing her hand to her forehead as she sunk back into the pillow.<p>

"_Rough night?" _

She let out a chuckle at the sound of Opie's concerned voice. "Your boys sure know how to party," she rasped, tucking the sheet up to her chin.

"_You make it home okay?"_

Shelby grimaced at her question, her eyes opening and sliding to the closed bathroom door, the shower going. "Yeah, I called Amber, didn't want Chibs to have to travel all that way, miss out on any free pussy. He seemed to be making some friends." She held her breath, waiting for his response.

"_I'm sure he appreciates that, but next time, just let him do what Jax asks him to, alright? He can always pick up where he left off."_

She could hear the relief in his tone. "Will do, boss." Her eyes cut back to the door as the water cut off and the curtain was pulled back. "Think I can call you in a bit?" she asked. "I want to get a shower."

"_Yeah, I have to meet with the guys, so I'll swing by this afternoon after I pick up Ellie and Kenny… I know they'd want to meet their aunt."_

Shelby chuckled. "Looking forward to it," she replied. "Bye, Op." She didn't wait for his reply before cutting off the call, sliding the phone on the bedside table as the bathroom door swung open. She pushed herself to a sitting position, holding the sheet to her chest as Tig stepped into the room, a towel low on his hips.

"Thought I told you to find your way out," he greeted, rubbing a towel against his soaked curls.

"Do I seem like the kinda girl who just leaves when you tell her?" she countered, pulling her dark waves away from her neck and over her shoulder.

Tig smirked. "You hopin' for another round, baby?" he asked, draping his towel over his shoulders and taking a seat on the bed.

She rolled her eyes, slipping out of the bed. "Like you'd be able to go again," she shot back.

"Oh, sweetheart, you have no _idea _the stamina I have," he reassured her, his pale eyes raking over her body, admiring his work from the night before.

Shelby swallowed and grimaced as the movement pulled at the cut on her throat. She walked over to the mirror, her eyes widening as she took in her appearance. The cut on her neck was angry and red, blood crusted and smeared over the edges. Hints of bruising were riddled over her neck from where she'd been grabbed around the throat. Her gaze traveled lower, noting the bruising on her hips, her thighs…

"You alright there, doll?"

She lifted her gaze to meet Tig's in the mirror, his wrinkled button up extended towards her. She turned around, snatching it from his fingers. "I'm fine," she snapped, pulling the shirt over her shoulders and buttoning it for the illusion of modesty. "I just wish you had kept the marks in a less obvious area if you had to do it at all."

He rolled his eyes, pulling the towel from his hips and reaching behind her for the dresser drawer, smirking as her gaze was immediately pulled south. "You helped me make those marks, sweetheart, so I don't think you need to be getting all wounded about it now." He pulled out two pairs of boxers, draping a pair over her shoulder before pulling his own pair over his hips.

They both turned at the sound of a knock on the door. "Yeah?" he called over his shoulder.

"_Tig_," she snarled, her eyes wide as the doorknob turned. The last thing she needed was for Opie to find out she'd lied to him and was still in the clubhouse. Considering the state of both her and Tig's undress, it wouldn't take much for whoever was at the door to figure out what had happened.

Juice stuck his head in the door. "Hey, Tig, Church in-" He cut himself off when he noticed the familiar brunette standing behind his brother, a dark blue button up just managing to cover up what he would have preferred to see. "Didn't know you had company," he finished with a smirk, his gaze travelling the room.

"We're meeting?" Tig asked, immediately all business, his expression serious as he grabbed his jeans from the floor.

"Clay wants us at the table in five," he replied, his eyes landing back on Shelby as she pulled boxers up her legs and he managed to just get a glimpse between her thighs.

"Hey!" Tig snapped, forcing Juice's attention. "I'll be there as soon as I'm done here." He gave the Puerto Rican a pointed look, letting him know that this would stay between them.

Juice nodded. "Good to see you again," he told Shelby, giving a nod before pulling the door shut, leaving the two alone.

"You couldn't have gone out there? Kept him from seeing me?" she asked, attempting to fluff her hair, avoiding his gaze.

The older man smirked as he pulled his jeans to his waist, leaving them unbuttoned. "You embarrassed to be seen with me?" he asked. He moved past her to find a shirt.

"I'd imagine most women would be," she replied, a scathing tone to her voice. "And I don't think Opie would be too thrilled to hear about this, so the less people that know the better."

Tig couldn't help but snort as he pulled his clothes into place, slipping his cut over his shoulders. "Typical bitch, worrying about useless shit," he muttered. He checked his pockets, making sure he had everything he needed. "If you're that concerned, just make sure you're out of here before we're out of Chapel, alright?" He fixed his collar before leaving the room, not giving her a second glance.

Shelby let out an exhale, trying to tap down her annoyance. She glanced over her shoulder to her pile of what had been her clothes, now a pile of glorified rags. She wasn't sure what she had been thinking the night before. She had been drinking, but that excuse didn't work after the age of 23, at least not in her mind. She'd known what she was doing, she'd known who she was with, she'd known it was a _terrible_ idea…

It was that sort of decision making that got her into trouble in the first place. She rarely looked before she leaped and then was forced to find a way to clean up her messes. It was why she had been forced out of Charming a decade before and then the reason she'd had to leave Indian Hills.

Her thoughts were cut off as her phone started to chirp, letting her know she'd had a text message. She let out a quiet sigh, figuring it was Amber looking for her. Grabbing the plastic off the nightstand, she frowned at the screen when she didn't recognize the number. Her fingers moved over the phone as she entered her password to unlock it.

_haven't i always told you? just because you can run, that doesn't mean you can hide…-BW_

Shelby swallowed, tears springing to her eyes as she read the words, the initials cutting deep.

* * *

><p>"I was wondering when you were going to call me."<p>

Shelby pulled the car door shut, buckling her seatbelt. "Thanks for coming," she replied, giving the blonde a forced smile.

Amber opened her mouth to reply, but was quickly cut off when she registered her friend's appearance. "Holy shit, Shel, did you get mugged?"

The brunette grimaced, flipping down the visor to look at herself in the mirror. "Not quite, she replied, wincing as she ran her fingers over the wound on her neck. "At least not the bad kind," she grudgingly admitted, flipping the visor back into place.

Amber arched an eyebrow. "Oh?"

Shelby cut her eyes to the side. "I don't want to talk about it," she finished. "Not yet."

The porn star gave a quick nod and a shrug. "Means it wasn't Opie then," she observed, pulling out onto the road, driving away from the clubhouse.

They rode along in silence, Amber's eyes on the road, Shelby's gaze focused out the window. She welcomed the quiet, thanking the heavens that her friend wasn't the type to press for information. She asked very few questions and was always accepting of whatever she was offered, no matter how little.

The brunette wasn't ready to admit how shaken up she was. She now had a minimum of two secrets under her belt, one she was hiding from everyone, another that she was pocketing from Opie. She knew she was spreading herself thin, especially by fucking around with Tig. That had been an unnecessary mistake… an error that she really couldn't afford.

She wasn't sure why she'd allowed it to happen. One minute she'd been ready to tear him to pieces with her bare hands, the next she had been letting him use her in a way even she craved.

Shelby liked physical pain… she wasn't sure why. She didn't have the stomach to inflict it on herself, but she welcomed others to do it for her, especially men. It made her feel alive, helped her forget… it was why she'd been drawn to Bryant the way she'd been…

But she could only take so much and she was aware of the thin line between what was acceptable and what would be considered abuse. Bryant had crossed that line, time and time again. She'd tried to convince herself that it was what she wanted, what she deserved…

"You okay?"

Amber's voice cut through her thoughts and she jumped at the unexpected intrusion. She glanced over to see the blonde's eyes still fixed on the road in front of her. "Yeah, I'll be alright."

The blonde chuckled, shaking her head. "I didn't ask if you'll be alright, I asked if you're okay."

Shelby gaze shifted to her knees and she felt the burn behind her eyes. "No," she finally whispered. "I'm really not."

* * *

><p>"So, we're thinking it was a Mayan hit that was meant for Opie?" Jax reiterated, his tone skeptical.<p>

Tig glanced at Clay before his eyes moved around the table. "You're the one that talked to LeRoy, they one that's saying he's telling you that it wasn't a Niner arrangement. Only leaves so many possibilities."

"Ain't like the wetbacks don't have enough motive," Clay finished, giving his stepson a pointed look.

Opie sat in his seat, gently scratching his thumb over the wood of the table. He couldn't believe that he was sitting there, discussing who could or couldn't have killed his wife. He hated that everyday was another reminder that Donna was dead, just gone. It was something he wished he could just forget… he didn't want to forget Donna, but he hated this broken feeling everytime he had to remember she was never coming back.

"Are we sure the hit was meant for Opie?" Juice chimed in. "Maybe Alvarez wanted to send some sort of message?"

Clay shook his head. "Alvarez may be a piece of Mexican shit, but he's not going to go after women like that unless they give him some sort of personal reason. He'll work his issues out with a Son directly. This was a fatal mistake, plain and simple."

"We should probably still put someone on Shelby though, shouldn't we?" the Puerto Rican pressed. "Just until we know for sure what we're dealing with?"

Tig lifted his gaze at the brunette's name. "We really gonna waste our manpower on some bitch like that?"

Opie cut his eyes at Tig. "Don't talk about her like that," he growled, his voice low. He turned his attention to Juice. "I can keep my eye on Shelby."

"Juice is right, we'll want to keep Shel protected," Jax agreed. "And you can't be with her all the time, Op."

Clay shook his head. "Ain't necessary unless you know something I don't, son."

The blond turned towards his stepfather, his eyes hard. "Oh, no, we're on the same page," he replied, glancing at Tig.

The Sergeant shifted in his chair, holding the VP's gaze, daring him to open his mouth. He knew what Jax suspected, that the boy had a feeling of what the truth may or may not be. But he and Clay had covered their tracks, so there was really no way that Gemma's boy could find any proof of what had really happened to Donna, he'd only be left with theories.

"Look, all I'm saying is that we should be prepared for anything," Jax finally said, shifting his gaze back to Clay. "Maybe have the Prospect watch her, ain't like he's doing anything."

Chibs nodded. "Might do the Prospect some good, gettin' him close ta some fresh pussy."

Opie slammed his hand down. "I said I got it," he snarled. "No one else needs to go near my sister-in-law."

Silence hung over the table as Opie fixed a glare on each member of the club, his eyes landing on Tig last. "I won't let anything else happen to my family," he finally murmured, the warning clear under his tone. "And that includes Shelby."

Clay cleared his throat. "Guess that settles it," he confirmed. "So now we're just going to have to figure out how to take care of this Mayan problem."

"Eliminate it," Tig offered. "That should more than take care of it." He knew the sooner they got rid of the created problem, the better off he and Clay would be and in the clear.

"I want to be the one to do it."

The group's focus shifted back to Opie. He looked up from the table his eyes hard, his expression serious. "When we find him, I'll be the one to take him out."

"Op, you don't have to-"

"No," he replied, cutting Jax off. "He killed my wife and I'm going to return that favor, make him pay for that mistake."

Clay nodded. "Then you'll be the one to do it," he agreed. "Once we find the bastard, Opie will be the one to pull that trigger. All in favor?"

The rest of the men agreed, not having a problem letting Opie resolve those issues. They figured that it was the best way that he'd be able to find some sort of piece and if he was willing, who were they to stop him?

"Anything else we need to discuss?" Clay continued once the group settled down. His eyes travelled over the table.

"Think we're good, Clay," Bobby offered.

The President nodded and brought the gavel down on the table. "Dismissed."


	10. Sometimes You Can't Make It On Your Own

**Author's Note: **Sorry for the wait guys. For some reason, this chapter didn't want to get written. I still feel like it's a little all over the place, but I'm hoping I'm just being too hard on myself (which I often tend to be guilty of). Also, this is so filler-y and while I think it's necessary, I'm still not a huge fan of filler. No matter. Let me just say my thank yous and get out of here. As always, thank you to everyone who took the time to read/favorite/follow/review. Special thanks to **OnTheWildside, FuckMyLife1986, mrsreedus69** for the kind reviews.

**Disclaimer: **I have no claim to SOA, Opie, Tig, etc. Those rights belong to Kurt Sutter, Ryan Hurst, Kim Coates, etc. But thank you to them for bringing them to my life, ha. 'Madness' belongs to Muse, 'Sometimes You Can't Make It On Your Own' is U2. All I can truly lay claim to is Shelby and Amber.

'_**Listen to me now… I need to let you know… you don't have to go it alone...'**_

Tig shoved open the door to his dorm, almost disappointed to find it empty. He wouldn't have minded another go round with the girl, something to pass the time, blow off a little steam. He kicked the door shut, shrugging out of his cut and gently placing it on the edge of the bed as he made his way to the bathroom.

He turned the spigot of the sink, letting the cold water run before shoving his hands underneath the stream and splashing his face. He rubbed at his cheeks before letting his eyes open as he regarded his reflection in the mirror, water dripping from his chin.

_I won't let anything else happen to my family… and that includes Shelby._

The words rang through Tig's head, making him shudder. He knew what that meant… Shelby was officially off limits, Opie was finally stepping up and laying his claim. He couldn't help but wonder if the man was aware of what had happened between them the night before, if that was the reason to finally put some sort of verbal ownership.

He shook his head. No, Opie couldn't know. If he did, that would have been a whole other conversation, most likely one that included fists and some spilled blood. And really, who would have told him?

Tig let out a sigh, his palms flat on the sink, his head hanging between his shoulders. He felt a gnawing in his stomach, a feeling he wasn't used to. Guilt. He wasn't used to feeling guilty, but he kept feeling it more and more ever since he'd been the one to take out Donna, first with Opie and now that Shelby was in town…

He'd tried to brush it off. Shit happened, mistakes were made, he knew how life worked. But he wasn't usually the one _making_ those sort of mistakes, he wasn't some sort of fuckin' amateur. He tried to act as though he wasn't bothered, it was just part of the job. Collateral damage, innocent people sometimes managed to get caught in the fire… and it had all worked out when they found out that Opie wasn't a rat, it was just a shame that Donna had already paid that bill.

But when Tig had woken up, Shelby asleep beside him, he'd known that it _wasn't _just part of the job, it was still complicated. He hadn't been able to stay beside her, knowing that he was the reason she was back in town, he was the reason Opie was without a wife, his kids left without a mother.

The darker man shook his head, drops of water flinging across the bathroom before dragging his palm over his face. There was nothing he could do now except move on, push through to the other side. Once they got rid of the Mayan that he and Clay had pinned it on, everything would be fine… Donna's supposed killer would be dead and buried, the club could start to heal...

"Tiggy, you in there?"

He snatched a towel off the hook and walked back into the room at the sound of Clay's voice on the other side of the door. He wiped the terry over his face before throwing it on the bed and pulling open the door. "What's up, brother?"

The older man ducked into the room, jerking his chin towards the door. Tig took the hint, shutting and leaning against it, watching his old friend as he wearily lowered himself to the edge of the mattress. "You doin' alright, Clay?"

The President nodded. "Yeah, I'm good, just needed a few," he replied, lifting his eyes to meet Tig's. "Trammell should have everything in place for us by tomorrow, we should be in the clear."

The Sergeant gave a nod, lifting his foot to lay flat against the wood behind him, his arms crossed tightly over his chest. "How we gonna play it?"

Clay rubbed a hand over his face, dragging his fingers down his chin. "Exactly what I said in there… We'll find him, let Opie take him out."

Tig nodded in full agreement. "Something else bothering you?"

The lighter man exhaled a breath. "Not sure how much longer I can keep a handle on our VP, if I'm honest." He shook his head. "That kid is pushin' me…"

A scowl pulled at the other man's mouth as he took a seat next to his old friend. "Would be a lie if I tried to tell you I didn't notice," he admitted. "And I don't think I'm the only one."

* * *

><p>Shelby sighed, curling up on the couch, her eyes on the television, but not really noticing what happening on the screen in front of her.<p>

"What are you doing home? Thought you would be with Opie."

The brunette lifted her head to see Amber giving her a look of confusion in the doorway. She pushed herself to a sitting position and shrugged. "He called a couple hours ago and cancelled on me," she replied. "I guess he sent the kids off with his mom… he didn't sound too good, but we really didn't talk all that long, didn't give me a chance to ask."

The blonde tossed her bag onto her recliner before falling onto the couch, her feet propped on the coffee table. "Probably better that way, right?"

Shelby raised an eyebrow, glancing at her. "And that means?"

Amber pointed at her, moving her finger up and down. "Might give you a little time to heal… or at least figure how to cover those up. Can't imagine Opie would let you get away without asking a few questions you'd rather not answer."

Her mouth turned down in a frown, hissing as her thumb moved over the ragged cut on her throat. "Fair point," she admitted, glancing at the digit to be sure she hadn't reopened the wound.

"You gonna tell me?"

Shelby pushed herself up off the couch, Tig's button-up brushing the top of her thighs as she walked to the kitchen. "Tell you what?" she replied, pulling open the refrigerator and grabbing a soda.

The porn star shrugged, leaning against the opening to her kitchen. "I dunno, anything? Maybe?"

The brunette popped the tab and took a swallow. "You wanna clarify?"

"Shelby, c'mon," the blonde almost pleaded. "You show up after 10 years in the middle of the night on my doorstep, a bag over your shoulder, telling me you need a place to stay but you don't tell me why or how long. Don't get me wrong, I've missed you and I'm thrilled you're back, but I need you to give me _something_, especially if you're going to be calling me to pick you up at the _SAMCRO _clubhouse looking as though you got into some sort of knife fight."

Shelby bit her lower lip, leaning back against the counter and avoiding her friend's stare. She'd known she was on borrowed time with Amber if she planned on staying with her. While her friend didn't push, there was only so much that was fair and she was more than aware that she had crossed over that line.

"I'm not trying to push you, but if you can't give me some sort of idea of what to expect…" The blonde let out a groan, pressing her hands to her face. "Fuck, why are you putting me in this position?"

Shelby lifted her head, raising an eyebrow. "What position?"

Amber pressed her palms together in front of her mouth. "If you can't talk to me, I can't let you stay here," she finished. "You're throwing my life into a whole upheaval and I can't afford to do that unless you tell me what I'm dealing with here."

"So, you're just gonna kick me out? Amber, where the hell am I gonna go?" Shelby couldn't believe what she was hearing. She'd figured that her old friend would press her at some point due to the circumstances, but she'd never dreamed that she'd be forcing her out like this.

The blonde sighed, running her fingers through her blonde curls. "I'm not 'kicking you out'," she argued. "All I'm asking is for you to give me something."

Shelby chewed her lower lip, her fingers tapping against the can. "Can you give me some time?"

Amber's eyes narrowed. "I've given you time," she replied, a note of exasperation in her tone. "How much more can I possibly give you?"

The brunette sighed. "Just give me another week, A," she pleaded. "If I can't make myself tell you everything in a week, I'll find somewhere else to go."

The porn star regarded her carefully for several beats before slowly nodding. "Fine, a week," she agreed. "But you have to figure out the vehicle situation before that," she reasoned. "I have a schedule and I can't keep chauffeuring you, okay?"

Shelby nodded. "Alright, I'll talk to Opie about it, see if I can't find a temporary ride."

"Good." Amber crossed the kitchen and pulled her friend into a hug. "You know I love you, I just need you to let me help you," she murmured, holding her tight.

The brunette slowly returned the hug, squeezing her eyes shut at the sting of tears. "I know," she whispered.

* * *

><p>God, she was beautiful.<p>

Opie loosely held the picture in his hand, his thumb tracing her face. Donna had looked so beautiful at their wedding… she was gorgeous always, but the day her last name went from Lerner to Winston… she'd been especially stunning.

He carefully set the frame down on the couch beside him, leaning his head back to fix his eyes on the ceiling. He shouldn't have been at table tonight. He wasn't ready. He wasn't ready to have to face that Donna was gone all over again, talk about who may or may not have done it. Did it really matter? As much as he wanted to fill her killer's body with bullets, he knew in the end it wouldn't bring his wife back.

He really thought he'd been getting better about it, that he'd had enough time. Especially having Shelby back home. She'd been able to distract him, make him focus on something other than what his life had been for the past several weeks. But all that had been for nothing as soon as he sat with his brothers.

"Thought you had Shelby watch."

Opie tilted his head to see Jax leaning in his doorway, lifting a lighter to his cigarette. "She'll be fine for a night," he replied, moving his eyes back to the ceiling.

He felt his friend take a seat next to him on the couch, his feet lifting to rest on the coffee table. "Not the way you made it seem at the table tonight," the blond pointed out. "You might as well have stamped your name over the girl."

"Wasn't like that," Opie replied, sinking lower into the cushion, blindly reaching out to take the cigarette Jax offered and took a drag. "Just didn't want some idiot Prospect thinking they could get close to her."

The VP scoffed, taking the cylinder back and slipping it between his lips. "Right, I'm sure that's all it was." Jax glanced over at his old friend. "You alright, Op? You left pretty quick after the gavel..."

Opie shook his head, but didn't reply, his gaze still fixed on the ceiling. He knew Jax was pushing for him to get back to normal and he really had been trying, but he just felt so lost and he wasn't sure how to find his way out.

"Opie?"

He glanced over as he felt an elbow in his side, Jax giving him a look of concern. "I'll be alright, I just think I need to be alone tonight," he admitted, shoving himself off the couch.

The blond frowned, pushing himself to his feet and running a hand through his hair. "You sure that's what you need?"

Before Opie could reply, Jax's pre-paid went off from inside his cut. With a grunt, he reached in and pulled the phone to his ear. "Yeah?"

The taller man took that as his cue to make his way to his darkened kitchen, grabbing a beer from the fridge. As he went to close the door, his fingers tightened, taking notice of a few older tupperware containers of food that he remembered Donna preparing the day before she was killed. He remembered watching her flit around the kitchen, taking advantage of the fact that they were home, no longer in ATF custody. He felt a tug at his heart as he remembered the smile she gave him when he'd asked if she was cooking for an army. He recalled the way her lips felt on his when she'd kissed him to cut off his questions…

"I gotta head to St. Thomas to pick up Tara."

Opie glanced over his shoulder as Jax's voice interrupted his memories. "Don't let me stop you," he replied, twisting the cap off his beer and taking a swallow, barely tasting the beverage.

The blond watched his old friend for several beats. "She'd want you to be okay," he finally said, shoving his hands in his pockets. "You know that right?"

"Just go, Jax," Opie replied.

The VP gave a nod, clapping his friend on the shoulder and pulling him into a hug that Opie halfheartedly returned. With one final pat on the back, Jax made his way out of the house.

Opie let out a sigh as he heard the motorcycle pull away, reaching into his cut and pulling out his own phone. He scrolled through his contacts until he landed on 'S'. He stared at Shelby's number for several moments before pressing send and lifting the phone to his ear, sitting at his kitchen table in the dark, his beer in front of him as the call connected.


	11. Crash Into Me

**Author's Note: **Oh hey. Next chapter. Has a little smuttiness for you. It's one of my favorite scenes, although I partially wonder if I jammed it in too soon, but c'est la vie. As always, thank you to those reading/alerting/favoriting/reviewing. Special thank you to my loves **OnTheWildside** and **mrsreedus69**. The alerts I get saying you've reviewed make me so happy. Anywho, I hope you enjoy.

**Disclaimer: **I have no claim to SOA, Opie, Tig, etc. Those rights belong to Kurt Sutter, Ryan Hurst, Kim Coates, etc. But thank you to them for bringing them to my life, ha. 'Madness' belongs to Muse, 'Crash Into Me' is Dave Matthews Band. All I can truly lay claim to is Shelby and Amber.

'_**Hike up your skirt a little more… and show the world to me...'**_

Tig didn't often find himself in situations where he could be taken by surprise. Given his position in the club and his overall lifestyle, he generally took things as they came, didn't allow it. But seeing Shelby standing alone outside the bay door of the garage as he pulled up, a cigarette smoldering between her first two fingers, that was the only word he figured could accurately describe what he was suddenly feeling. He moved his bike up to the line, walking the machine back to its' place before shutting it down. As he removed his helmet, he watched her watching him from across the lot, her eyes covered by sunglasses, her expression serious. He hadn't had a chance to see her since he left her alone in his room and that was the day before yesterday… not that he was keeping track of that sort of thing.

"You been missin' me, sweetheart?" he called as he swung his leg off his bike, lifting his own sunglasses to the top of his head.

She gave a scoff, but didn't bother with any real reply, flicking her cigarette to the ground and crushing it with her heel. She sifted through her purse absently, giving herself an excuse to focus on something else as he took his time approaching, his footsteps heavy on the pavement. She should have figured that showing up early would somehow put her into _his _path. Things had been too quiet the past couple days.

"Not even a hello?" Tig asked, leaning against the wall beside her, tucking his hands in his pockets. "You're gonna manage to make a grown man cry, doll."

The brunette shot him a withering look as he pulled a pack of cigarettes from his cut, taking one from the pack with his teeth. "You don't strike me as the crying type," she admitted, turning her focus back to her bag.

"She speaks," he teased, lighting his cancer stick. "Speak again, bright angel."

Shelby gave him a look of disbelief. "Shakespeare? Really?"

Tig shrugged before taking a deep drag. "Guess I'm just full of surprises." He blew a plume of smoke in the air. "What are you doing here anyway? Looking for another ride, baby?" He wiggled his eyebrows suggestively.

"You wish," she replied, crossing her arms over her chest, dragging his attention lower as her cleavage became more obvious. "If you must know, I'm waiting for Opie."

"Explains the scarf," he noted, giving the garment a gentle tug.

She took a step to the side, straightening her accessory. "I'd rather not talk about that," she snapped, narrowing her eyes.

"Shelby, what the hell are ya doin' here?"

Both Tig and Shelby glanced over to see Chibs and Juice making their way from the clubhouse. Once she was in arms' reach, the Scot pulled her into a hug. "I just wanted to see your handsome face again," she flirted, giving him a grin.

"Ya flatterer," he replied, pressing his lips to her temple before taking a step back. "Tiggy ain't givin' ya any troubles, now, is he?"

"We can protect you if that's the case," Juice added with a wink.

Shelby glanced over at Tig as he turned to walk into the garage, clearly not interested in the conversation. "Oh, he's harmless," she replied, turning back to the two men in front of her, waving her hand. "But I do appreciate my two knights in shining leather just the same."

"Ya waitin' for Opie then, sweetheart?" Chibs asked as Juice checked his reflection in the window of a Oldsmobile.

The brunette chuckled. "You don't have to preen for me, Juice," she teased before turning her attention back to Chibs. "Yeah, he's supposed to be here in a half hour or so. Maybe less, if I'm lucky."

"He's making you wait?" the Puerto Rican asked, crossing his arms over his chest.

She shrugged. "He had some things to take care of and Amber had to get to Cara Cara," she explained. "I figured I'd find something to entertain me, I am a big girl."

"Aye, dat ya are," Chibs agreed, giving her a once over above his sunglasses before pushing them back up his nose. "Give Juice here a few and he should be entertainin' ya just fine."

Juice shot him a look. "I will?"

The Scot knocked him over the back of the head. "Be a feckin' gentleman fer once, wouldya?"

Shelby couldn't help but giggle at the their banter as they walked away towards the line of bikes. She glanced at her watch and let out a sigh, knowing Opie would still be at least 20 minutes. She froze as she felt heat at her back and a hand tight on her hip, the smell of Marlboro Reds, the tang of cheap aftershave, and a hint of leather tickling her nostrils.

"If you're really lookin' for some entertainment, why don't you let me help you out with that?" Tig murmured in her ear, pressing her back against him and his mouth twitched as he felt a shiver run through her.

The brunette took a breath, her gaze fixed on the men across the lot, the reapers on their backs seeming to mock her. "The other night was a one time ride, no do overs," she replied, her lower lip caught between her teeth.

He let out a dark chuckle, his fingers digging into her hip as he slowly moved them both backwards, deeper into the garage. "Why don't we get in the car and discuss that before you make those sort of rash decisions?" he offered, moving her hair off her shoulder and nipping at her ear before skimming his lips along her jaw.

Shelby scoffed, her hand moving over his to push him away, but his fingers laced with hers, holding them both tight against her hip. "I'm not going anywhere with you," she told him, her voice just above a whisper.

"Now, c'mon, doll," he murmured, taking note of where his brothers stood before letting his free hand brush the skin of her stomach, his thumb dipping just below her waistline. "You trying to tell me you didn't have a good time the other night?"

Her breath hitched as his fingers dragged against her bare skin and she willed herself not to react to his touch, his voice, his heat. "I told you I'm supposed to meet Opie," she reminded him, trying to ignore the breathless tone of her voice.

Tig smirked, feeling the way her resolve was slowly crumbling. "Means you have at least 15 minutes for a chat, doesn't it?" he argued, slipping his hand from beneath her shirt and opening the car door. "Get in the car."

Shelby glanced over her shoulder, her lashes lowered, her eyes on his mouth. "You're trying to tell me you've suddenly become a minute man?" she challenged, leaning away when he tried to capture her lips.

A smirk played on his face. "Just get in the car, baby," he murmured, giving a light push.

She let out a deep exhale, sparing one last glance across the lot. She knew it was a terrible idea and she knew they were both being careless, but her curious nature was getting the best of her, wondering what his idea of a 'chat' would entail. She slipped into the back seat of the car, her lashes lowered as she waited. Tig climbed in behind her, slamming the door shut and slithering in beside her, his body angled towards hers. Before she could open her mouth, he wrapped his fingers around her chin, slamming his mouth over hers, his tongue sliding over her teeth. She let out a quiet grunt of disapproval and shoved him back. "I don't know what kind of a girl you think I am but-"

Tig clapped a hand over her mouth. "Shut up," he snarled. He pressed her back in the bucket seat and shifted, lifting her skirt up her thighs exposing tiny white panties and faded bruising on her thighs. He let out a chuckle. "Don't know what it is and I never would have expected it," he told her, slipping a hand under the elastic waistband. "But I like seeing you in these."

Shelby's fingers wrapped around his thick wrist and pulled as a digit swiped over her clit, collecting moisture. "Tig," she gasped out. "What are you doing?" She tried to close her thighs, but his other hand moved from her mouth to shove her left leg against the side of the car, his left foot wrapping around her ankle to keep her spread. "I told you I have to meet-"

Her eyes rolled back as a finger shoved its way into her cunt. "I don't care if you have to meet the fuckin' pope, doll," he murmured softly, his lips brushing over her ear, making her shiver. "Told you this won't take long. And you were the one looking for some sort of _entertainment_."

She let out a cry, throwing her head back against the seat as he slipped a second finger to join the first, her own hand slamming against his thigh and squeezing.

"Yeah, you like that, don't you?" he purred, pressing the pads of his fingers against her inner wall before dragging them out and moving back in, his thumb slipping over her clit. He grinned when he felt her soak his fingers a bit more. "Want me to make you come all over this back seat, don't you? Have you walk around with Opie later, your cunt _throbbing _because you want my cock filling you instead of my fingers? Thinking about how you want a man that could be your _daddy _fuck you so hard you can barely _walk_?"

Shelby's fingers dug into the meat of his thigh, her thighs spreading further apart, unconsciously trying to give him better access. Her hips bucked, working to meet his fingers at each pass as they picked up the pace, pushing into her so hard that she was sure she would be bruised but all she could think was that she wanted _more_.

Tig's eyes shifted to glance out the windshield. A third finger joined the first two as he watched Chibs and Juice making their way back towards the garage and he grinned before turning back to the girl that was falling apart under his hand. He pulled the fabric of her scarf out of the way, cutting his teeth over the delicate skin of her throat, skin that was already torn and bruised from the night they had spent together, still healing. "Dirty slut," he complimented, pressing his thumb against her clit, making her cry out. "Chibby and Juicy are coming back this way," he told her, making her eyes fly open to look around wildly. "I should let them watch this, let them smell you."

She let out a quiet whimper at his words, her teeth digging into her lower lip as she tried to stay quiet and not give him the satisfaction that his fingers were giving her any sort of pleasure. Her heart was pounding in her ears, a mixture of her impending climax and the idea that they could be caught at any time.

"You'd _want _them to see you, wouldn't you?" Tig continued, nipping at her earlobe. "Knowing that you're supposed to be pining for Opie, yet you're letting me touch you like this…" He chuckled, the warmth of his breath moving over her ear.

"Tig," she groaned, sliding deeper into the seat, one of her hands moving to grab her own breast by it's own accord, her breath hitching as she felt the icy heat wash over her. "Don't stop," she muttered, her hips slamming into his hand.

He shook his head and kept moving, though his wrist was starting to cramp from the movement and the angle. He wanted to see her fall apart. "Come for me, baby girl," he ordered.

She let out a strangled cry, her back arching off the seat as she felt herself explode on his fingers, her hand moving to grab her hair. She pressed her face into his neck, muffling her shrieks and whimpers as he kept going, his hand working to keep her on the high that was making her lose control.

Tig felt like he was 12 and looking at his first nudie mag as she gushed all over his hand, his cock straining behind the zipper of his pants. He was going to have to take care of that, but he knew he was cutting it close and he couldn't risk getting caught with her like this, especially not by Opie, not after the kid's veiled warning at the table. He gave his fingers one last thrust into her cunt making her jump before pulling out, wiping them on her panties.

"Really?" she breathed as he slipped his hand out.

He gave her a shrug and a smirk. "Could've had you lick them clean," he reasoned. "Your choice baby."

She wrinkled her nose before blowing her bangs out her eyes and pressing a hand to her flushed cheek. "Nice," she muttered, her eyes slipping closed as she tried to slow her heart rate.

They both perked up as they heard the sound of a bike coming closer. "Shit," she muttered, smoothing her skirt over her thighs and trying to finger comb the knots of her hair. "I fucking _told you_," she snarled, her eyes flashing.

The older man gave her an almost bored look. "Relax, sweetheart," he muttered. "He'll look for you in the clubhouse before he thinks you're in here, if that's even him."

Shelby glowered at him, twisting around to look around the garage through the fogged windows. "What about Chibs?" she challenged. "Or Juice?"

He rolled his eyes. "I'll get out of the car and take care of those two," he reasoned, running a hand through his hair. "I'll give the car a tap when you're in the clear." He gave her a wolfish grin. "'less of course you want to return the favor, I can get rid of them all…"

She grit her teeth at him. "Will you just take care of _them_?" she rasped. She avoided his eyes, bringing her legs together but she could feel how wet she was. She licked her dry lips and absently ran her fingers through her hair.

Tig couldn't help but grin, noticing the effect he had on her as he moved to exit the car. "Try to keep your eyes off my ass, alright doll?" He didn't wait for a response as he unfolded himself from the sportscar, shaking out his legs.

"Tiggy boy, the fuck ye doin'?"

He glanced behind him to see Chibs and Juice standing over the toolbox, watching him curiously. "None of your concern," he replied easily.

"Missing 4 wheels, Tig?" Juice teased, leaning his hip against a shelf, crossing his arms over his chest. "Can let you drive the van on our next run if you're getting nostalgic."

Tig ignored him, running a thumb over his lower lip and he couldn't help but grin as Shelby's scent moved into his nostrils. "Don't either of you have somewhere else to be?" he asked in a withering tone.

"Aye, supposed ta meet Jackie boy down en Oakland," Chibs replied, glancing at the clock.

Juice shrugged. "I looked around for Shelby, but she pretty much vanished," he explained.

Tig chuckled. "Probably got terrified at the thought of bein' stuck with you," he retorted. "I know I'd run away if I had a choice."

The Puerto Rican glared at him. "I'm a joy to be around," he replied.

Chibs shook his head. "Children, behave," he joked, clapping Juice on the shoulder. "Check tha clubhouse fer tha girl, migh' be waitin' en there fer ya ef Op hasn't snatched her up."

The younger man gave a nod, his hands shoved into his pockets and ducking out of the garage. The Scot turned his attention to the man left in the garage. "Think ya can be stayin' out of trouble there, Tiggy?" he asked, scratching at his scarred cheek.

The darker man crossed his arms over his chest, leaning against the side of the car. "Ain't my fault trouble finds me, brother," he replied, giving him a grin.

Chibs chuckled, pulling his sunglasses from his neck and settling them over his eyes. "Guess we all have our talents," he agreed. He gave a wave before ducking out of the garage and making his way towards his bike.

Tig waited a few moments before giving the car a light kick, pulling the door open. "All clear," he advised, crossing to his toolbox.

Shelby tumbled out of the vehicle, smoothing out her clothes. "Took you long enough," she muttered, running her fingers through her hair. "I thought you knew how to work fast."

He gave her a grin, twirling a wrench between his fingers. "C'mon, baby, I'd think you prefer it nice and slow," he retorted, giving her a leer.

"Shel? What are you doing in here"

Shelby turned towards the voice as Opie ducked into the garage. "Waiting for you," she replied, giving him a smile and standing on tiptoe to kiss his cheek.

He wrapped an arm around her loosely. "You should have waited in the clubhouse, Pop's in there," he advised, his eyes darting over to Tig.

Tig shrugged his shoulders, walking to the front of the car and popping the hood. "Don't look at me, man, I'm just trying to get some work done." He turned his back on the two, a smirk playing over his lips.

Opie's mouth twitched, his gaze moving back to Shelby. "Were you waiting long?" he asked, moving a hand to the small of her back and guiding her towards his bike.

She shook her head, reaching behind her to pull her hair up into a ponytail. "Less than 30… Amber had to drop me before she went to work."

He frowned, grabbing a helmet and extending it to her. "You should have called me, I would've tried to get here earlier."

The brunette furrowed her brow and pouted her mouth. "You worried about me, Op?" she teased. "Think I can't take care of myself?"

He eyed her carefully as she lowered the helmet gently over her head, tightening the strap beneath her chin. "I worry about a lot these days," he admitted quietly, reaching forward to adjust her strap.

Shelby bit her lower lip, her eyes meeting his. "So, you think you might have a car I could borrow?" she finally asked, lowering her lashes to break the spell.

Opie cleared his throat, putting his own helmet in place. "Yeah, I think I can help you out with that," he replied, throwing a leg over his bike before glancing over his shoulder. "Get on and we'll go."

* * *

><p>Gemma stood in the window of the office, watching Tig as he worked underneath the car. Her mouth gave a twitch as she lifted her mug of coffee to her lips, taking a sip. He wasn't listening to her, she could tell that much, letting himself be ruled by his cock, rather than his brain. She always thought that her husband's best friend was smart, but when it came to women? He was dumber than the whole club combined. That was how he'd managed to get into the mess with the bitch that gave him his twin girls.<p>

She let out a quiet sigh, her eyes narrowed. She'd tried talk to him, let him know to keep Shelby at arm's length if he felt the need to look into her, but that had obviously gone out the other ear as soon as she'd opened her mouth. She knew that as soon as the girl tumbled out of the car, face flushed, eyes bright.

"What are you looking at?"

Gemma glanced over her shoulder to see Tara in the doorway, giving her a look of concern. "Nothing, baby," she replied, sparing one last glance at Tig before turning towards her son's girlfriend. "Just thinking about something."

"You have that look," Tara pressed, letting the door shut behind her.

The older woman arched an eyebrow. "What look?"

Tara gave a scoff. "The look that I always found was trouble, especially if you had been thinking about me."

Gemma gave her a thin smile, settling into her seat. "Then what a relief it should be that for once I wasn't thinking about you," she replied, crossing her legs.

The brunette nodded. "I guess so." She cleared her throat, her eyes moving around the office. "I just wanted to stop in, see if I could get the spare key I asked you about."

Gemma's mouth twitched, but she pulled open her desk drawer, grabbing a set of keys and slipping one off the ring. "Not sure why you didn't want to borrow Jackson's," she pointed out, extending the brass.

Tara grabbed the key and forced a smile. "I want to surprise him," she reminded the matriarch. "Less of a surprise if I ask him for the key."

"If my son wanted to be 'surprised', you'd have a key," she retorted, dropping her set back into the drawer.

"Duly noted," the doctor replied, suddenly exhausted by the nearly constant power struggle she participated in with her boyfriend's mother. "I appreciate you letting me borrow this," she said, tucking the key into her pocket. "I'll have it to back to you in an hour or so." She turned towards the door to leave.

"Tara."

The brunette stopped, turning to face Gemma. "Yes?"

Gemma's eyebrow twitched. "Shelby Lerner is back," she finally told the younger woman.

Tara slowly nodded. "Jax mentioned that to me," she replied. "Said she's been spending a lot of time with Opie, which makes sense. I haven't seen her."

The corner of the matriarch's mouth lifted. One of the few things she had in common with the younger Lerner sister was the feelings they both had towards the young doctor. It didn't surprise her that Shelby hadn't been around Tara since she'd blown back into town. "Jax mention to you why she might be back?"

Tara gave a shrug. "I'd imagine it has something to do with Donna, but we haven't talked about it," she replied. "Why?"

Gemma eyed Tara carefully before shaking her head. "No reason," she replied, slipping her glasses over her eyes and reading over the papers in front of her. "Bring my grandson with you when you come back so I can see him," she continued, dismissing her.


	12. Closer

**Author's Note: **I promise I didn't abandon you all or this story. I could give you the usual excuses (in the process of moving, no internet at home, work is cray), but while they are legitimate, they're still excuses. But I'm only technically a week behind, right? Yeah, I know, that's still awhile. Anyway... I'll stop babbling. Per usual, thank you if you are taking the time to read/favorite/follow/review. It's always nice to have people take that sort of time. Special thank you to** FuckMyLife1989, OnTheWildside, kripixx**. I'll try not to have such a gap before I post chapter 13. I know that's how people get lost/lose interest.

**Disclaimer: **I have no claim to SOA, Opie, Tig, etc. Those rights belong to Kurt Sutter, Ryan Hurst, Kim Coates, etc. But thank you to them for bringing them to my life, ha. 'Madness' belongs to Muse, 'Closer' is Kings of Leon. All I can truly lay claim to is Shelby and Amber.

'_**Skies are blinking at me… I see a storm bubbling up from the sea… And it's coming closer...'**_

"A wagon?" Shelby asked, her gaze moving over the vehicle before shifting to Opie.

The biker shrugged, pulling a pack of cigarettes from his cut. "It's not getting used," he pointed out, being sure to avoid looking directly at the car. It had been sitting in the garage for over a month, under a tarp. The tank was still three quarters of the way full. Kenny's comic book and Ellie's sweater in the back. Donna's purse on the passenger seat because she had forgotten it when they decided last minute to switch vehicles.

The brunette chewed her lower lip, leaning against the wall of the garage. "You sure? I mean, I don't want to put you out or anything…"

Opie lit his cigarette before tucking the pack and the lighter back in his cut. "Like I said, it's not getting used." He blew smoke to the side. "Plus I have my bike and my truck, it's not like I'm gonna need it." He extended the key to her and gave a half smile.

Shelby sighed and took the key, tucking it in her pocket. "Well, thank you," she replied, her other hand fiddling with the ends of her scarf. "I promise I'll figure something out, some way to pay you back for this."

He shook his head. "Seriously, don't worry about it. If I needed it, I would have figured something else to help you out."

She gave him a nod. "Okay," she relented. "I really do appreciate this, Opie."

He replied with a grunt as he finished his cigarette. He dropped it to the ground, crushing it with his heel, and glanced over at her. "You want a drink or something?" he asked, gesturing towards the house.

"That would be great," she replied, giving him a smile.

He settled his hand on her lower back, guiding her into the house to the kitchen. He approached the refrigerator. "Anything in particular?" he asked, looking over his shoulder.

She gave a shrug. "I'm good with water."

He nodded, grabbing a bottle and tossing it over to her before picking out his own, ignoring the voice that told him he wanted a beer instead. He shut the fridge and turned towards her, leaning against the counter. He watched her carefully as she took a swallow of the liquid, noticing that she seemed to avoid looking directly at him. "So, you and Tig, huh?" he finally asked, taking a drink.

Shelby's eyes darted over at his question as she swallowed hard, suddenly nervous, her eyes wide with surprise. "What does that mean?" she rasped, screwing the cap back on the water before wiping her mouth on the back of her hand.

He raised an eyebrow. "You were in the garage with him," he replied, crossing his arms over his chest, tapping the bottle against his side. "You don't need to get so defensive."

"I was waiting for you, he just happened to be there," she retorted, walking over to the kitchen table and straddling a chair. "Don't start rumors, Op, you're better than that."

Opie's lips twitched beneath his beard. He stayed quiet as his gaze travelled over her, taking a sort of inventory. She was so tense, but it was clearly a subconscious tension, a sort of second nature, almost as though she was constantly waiting for the bottom to fall out. Her feet strapped into a pair of worn sandals, her skirt riding higher on her thighs as she sat. Her shirt clung to her curves, a scarf tight around her throat. "Little warm for that, isn't it?" He gestured at her throat.

Shelby blinked and glanced down, her fingers gently tugging at the tassels at the end of her scarf. "Sometimes fashion isn't comfortable," she replied, her green eyes finally meeting his as she gave him a smirk.

He forced a chuckle, tossing his bottle in the sink and taking a seat across from her at the kitchen table, his hands folded in front of him. "Wouldn't know anything about that," he admitted.

"No kidding," she teased. "And you're one to talk about unseasonable accessories." She stood, reaching over to give his skullcap a light tug. "Think you were born in this thing."

The bearded man let out an honest laugh at her teasing. "Keeps my hair out of my face," he replied.

She shot him a look, taking another sip of water. "How long _is _your hair these days?" she asked, cocking her head to the side as she plopped back down in her chair.

He reached up, pulling the cap off his head, letting his hair tumble down. He shook his head, the locks falling to his chin. "Answer that question?"

"Holy shit, Op, you're a Goddamn hippie," she crowed, a grin spread over her face. "When's the last time you got that shit cut? Hell, when was the last time you had a trim on that nest on your chin?"

His eyebrows shot up and he gave her a look. "You got jokes now, lady?" he replied, pushing himself up from his chair and walking over to her. "Take it back," he warned, standing over her, resting a hand on the back of her seat.

She smirked up at him, crossing her legs at the knee. "How 'bout you make me, big shot?" she replied.

Opie narrowed his eyes before reaching down and grabbing her, throwing her over his shoulder, laughing as he heard her squeal. "You asked for it," he told her, walking into the living room as she punched at his back.

"Opie, put me down! I'm in a skirt!" she shrieked, letting out a grunt as he tossed her on the couch, grinning down at her. "You are honestly 12," she told him, smoothing her clothes.

He chuckled and fell onto the couch at her feet. "You started it," he replied, giving a shrug.

Shelby shoved herself to her elbows and stuck her tongue out at him. "See? Total child."

"Holy shit, Shel, what happened?"

She blinked in confusion before glancing down, realizing her scarf had come loose. She moved her hand to her throat, trying to cover the now obvious wound.

Opie reached out, his fingers curling around her wrist and pulling her hand away. He moved closer, the fingers of his other hand ghosting over the cut. "Who did this?" he asked, his voice dangerously calm.

The brunette swallowed, trying to pull herself from his grasp, her stomach clenching at his closeness. "It's just a scratch, Opie, nothing to worry about," she murmured.

His eyes narrowed and shifted to meet her. He was so close he could see the flecks of gold in her eyes, feel her breath on his lips. "Who did this, Shelby?" he pushed, his voice quiet.

Her heart was pounding in her chest, her mind racing… She couldn't tell him what had happened with Tig, he would never understand. "You don't know him," she finally replied, lowering her lashes. "Please let me go…"

Opie's fingers flexed over her skin, her wrist still tight in his grasp. He lifted her chin before gently pulling the scarf away, his eyes widening as he took in the faded bruising marring her flesh. "Jesus Christ," he whispered. His fingers trailed over the marks and he felt her shiver. "This the boyfriend you told me about? The one on the title?"

"I don't want to talk about this," she replied, shaking her head.

He looked at her in disbelief, finally releasing her wrist to grasp her hand. "Shelby, he's _hurting_ you."

She met his gaze and swallowed. "Opie, let it go, okay?" She tucked a lock of hair behind her ear. "I promise you, I'm fine."

He watched her as she rewrapped the scarf around her neck, avoiding his gaze as she tried to move away and put space between them. "You need to talk to me," he finally told her as she moved to the other end of the couch. "_I_ need you to talk to me…"

Shelby gave him a sad smile. "Opie, I don't need to be saved okay?" She shook her head, pushing herself off the couch. "I don't need you to save me…" She smoothed a hand over her hair and took a deep breath before pulling the key from her pocket. "I'm gonna go, I'll talk to you later…"

Opie watched her as she hurried out the door, not giving him time to voice a response or try to stop her. He leaned forward, rubbing a hand over his face, the image of her slashed and bruised throat at the forefront of his mind. He found himself at a loss, not sure what to do. He cared about that girl, he always had. Seeing that sort of physical damage, it made him sick and made him wonder who could do that to her, _how _they could stomach abusing someone like that.

* * *

><p>"Tiggy."<p>

He glanced over his shoulder, cutting off his flirtation with the croweater in front of him at the sound of his name. "What's going on, Clay?" he asked, as his old friend approached.

"Go," the President commanded the blonde, jerking his head to the side and smirking as she all but ran away.

"Man, I was thisclose to gettin' my dick sucked," Tig complained, watching her go. "You're straight cockblockin' me now, boss."

The older man shook his head. "That dick of yours will still be there to be mouthed later," he assured him, clapping a hand on his shoulder. "And maybe this will make you feel better. Need you to do a run for me."

The curly haired man raised an eyebrow. "Where am I going?"

Clay smirked. "Need you to make a run out to Indian Hills, check in with Jury about our guns."

Tig's eyes lit up. "You mean I get to pick through his stable?"

He sobered at the stern look he received. "Work first, then you can have time to play," Clay warned. "I trust Jury, but I want one of our eyes to give it a look, make sure everything's in order. You'll catch things he'll never even think of."

The Sergeant nodded. "Am I taking a Prospect?"

Clay shook his head. "Nah, Happy's in town, figured he could make the ride with you before heading back to Tacoma."

Tig's eyes widened in surprise. "You're lettin' me and Hap go play unsupervised, dad?"

"Watch it," the older man growled, shoving his friend lightly. "I can send one of the others in your place."

The darker biker let out a chuckle. "I'll be good, promise."

Clay shook his head. "I don't think you know _how_ to be good, my fucked up friend," he replied, giving him another clap on the shoulder. "Give Happy a call, find out where he is and then get him here so you can head out. Time is money."

Tig nodded as his president gave him one last look before making his way out of the clubhouse. He grinned when he contemplated his luck. Things were just becoming too easy for him when it came to his Shelby problem. Not only was she dropping herself into his lap, now he was being sent back to her old stomping grounds. He'd figure out what that little girl was hiding in no time.

He reached into his pocket, pulling out his pre-pay and flipping it open as he made his way back to his dorm. He scrolled through the recent calls before landing on what he remembered to be Happy's number, clicking the button to make the call. As it connected, he lifted the plastic to his ear, settling on the bed..

"_What?" _ Happy's rasp snapped through the receiver, his voice seeming almost strangled.

"Aww, baby, I ain't interruptin' you am I? I get mighty jealous," Tig teased, leaning back on his hand.

The other man chuckled and Tig heard him tell someone to leave, followed by the rustling of clothes. _"Sup, killah?"_ he finally greeted, his voice calmer.

"You hear we're takin' a field trip?" he asked, giving the blonde from earlier a wink as she appeared in his doorway.

"_Nevada, right?" _There was a shuffling and a clatter as the phone was put on speakerphone. _"You need a baby-sitter."_

Tig let out a scoff as the blonde approached him slowly. "Fuck you, brother, you're just lucky you get to go."

Happy let out a gruff chuckle. _"When are you trying to head out?"_

"Depends where you are," he replied, running a hand through the blonde's locks, guiding her to her knees as her hands worked on his belt.

"_Gimme 20, gotta finish my stress relief."_

Tig chuckled, his jeans being tugged down his hips and he let out a hiss as his cock came into view. "I hear that brother." He flipped the phone shut, bringing his focus to the croweater between his legs. "That's it," he purred, his fingers tightening in her locks as her mouth closed over him. "Just one for the road…"


	13. Kiss With a Fist

**Author's Note: **Oh, hey, remember me? Sorry about extreme delay…. I know these are cliche excuses, but I didn't have internet, then I moved, still didn't have internet, work got crazy, death in the family… May was a crazy month that I'd never like to repeat, ha. To be honest, I'm not sure how I feel about this chapter… Okay, I could probably say that about everything I've ever written at some point, but whatever. So, here's the next chapter in the Opie/Shelby/Tig saga… I can only hope it lives up to any sort of expectations that may have come about, especially with the unintended hiatus. Thank you for all the favorites/follows/reviews/etc. They honestly mean the world to me… Special thanks to **mrsreedus69, OnTheWildside, kripixx, Valerie E. Mackin, mypoeticdownfall** for taking the time to review. Your kind words… I just can't thank you guys enough. I'll stop babbling and just let you read, haha. Hope you enjoy! :)

**Disclaimer: **I have no claim to SOA, Opie, Tig, etc. Those rights belong to Kurt Sutter, Ryan Hurst, Kim Coates, etc. But thank you to them for bringing them to my life, ha. 'Madness' belongs to Muse, 'Kiss With a Fist' is Florence+the Machine. All I can truly lay claim to is Shelby and Amber.

'_**A kick in the teeth is good for some, a kiss with a fist is better than none...'**_

"What's going on with you?"

Tig blinked and slid his attention to Happy at the unexpected tone and question, his hands still moving over the guns as he checked them. "The fuck you talking about? I'm fine."

The bald man continued his own examination, his focus never wavering. "I've known you for the better part of 15 years, brother," he rasped, peering closer at the piece between his hands. He let out a grunt of satisfaction before gently setting it to the side, picking up the next. "You're off your game. Been off for awhile now."

Tig scowled, placing his gun into the appropriate box before doing a secondary check on the piece Happy had just set to the side. "You interested in my personal life now?"

Happy snorted, aiming the weapon to check the scope. "I'm interested in what's keepin' you _distracted_," he corrected. His gaze shifted. "You ain't been right since Opie's old lady got shot."

Tig let out a sigh, but stayed quiet as they finished checking over the inventory. He had known that Clay was watching him pretty closely since the night everything went down, but he must have been pretty off if _Happy Lowman_ was calling him out. His brother expressed even less interest in personal baggage than he did, so if the Nomad was asking him what was up, then Tig was really slipping. "Shit like that just makes you think, y'know?" he finally replied, sealing the lid on the last box. "Way things can change in no time…"

Happy narrowed his eyes, the dark orbs zeroed in on his friend. He stayed quiet, letting Tig absorb what was being left unsaid, letting him know that he'd be watching him closely.

The older man's frown deepened as he shoved the crate back in place, wiping his hands on his jeans. "That was the last one, right?" he asked to change the subject, his hands on his hips as he looked around the basement. "I'm ready to take a sampling of Indian Hills finest, see what Jury is offering this week."

Happy watched his old friend make his way up the stairs to the main floor of the strip club, not waiting for his reply. He shook his head, a scowl pulling at the corners of his mouth. He had a bad feeling and he didn't like it. He wasn't an idiot. He may not have been an active member of the SAMCRO charter, but he knew that Donna's death had more of an impact on the president and the sergeant than simply a wife of a brother dying. They were taking it too personally, almost trying to make up for something rather than distribute some sort of retribution. It was a subtle difference and he was sure that most of the club wouldn't have even been aware.

The Nomad wasn't the type to share his suspicions… he liked to be confident and 100% sure of what was going on before taking any sort of action. Tig was his brother, he loved the man the way you were supposed to love a fellow member of your club, but he knew that if Tig had taken Donna out, it would shake up the balance and Happy couldn't let that happen. If the mother charter went through such chaos, it would trickle through each and every branch, potentially destroying the one of the few things in his life he truly cared about.

Happy let out a puff of air, rolling his shoulders beneath his cut. Now wasn't the time to think such things. He didn't want to have to think about potentially taking out a man that wasn't a true enemy. He'd keep watching him, stay aware, do what needed to be done when that time came. For now, he was going to distract himself with pussy. He'd more than earned it.

* * *

><p>"Can I get you something?"<p>

Shelby blinked and looked up at the voice, the Prospect whose name she could never remember giving her a nervous smile. "You have anything without an alcohol content back there?" she asked, chewing on a stirrer, her eyes travelling over the shelves of liquor.

"That's askin' an awful lot en here, sweetheart," a voice piped in behind her. "Ya get a beer on da side of everthin'."

She glanced over her shoulder to see Chibs giving her a grin, his dark lenses hanging loosely around his neck. He slid onto the stool next to her, a beer appearing in front of him quickly. "Not all of us like to drink at…" She trailed off, narrowing her eyes at the clock behind the bar. "11:45 in the morning."

The Scot chuckled, wrapping a hand around his bottle. "On the contrary, girly, it's always time fer a drink," he countered, taking a swallow. "Get her a coke, Prospect."

"Diet," the brunette added. "Please."

Chibs turned his body towards her, resting a foot on the bottom of her stool. "You 'lone here?"

Shelby pulled the stirrer from her mouth and chewed her lower lip instead, giving a shrug. "Not at the moment," she returned, gesturing towards him.

He gave a chuckle, shaking his head. "Not what I meant and ya know it." He took another pull from his beer. "Where's yer Op?"

She frowned. "Probably his house? I'm not his keeper." She gave Chibs a look. "Am I not welcome here without a chaperone?"

He tilted his head to the side, regarding her carefully. "Yer lucky it's me yer talking ta," he finally told her, his voice quiet as he slipped a straw into her glass and pushed it closer to her, his fingertips gentle on the side of the drink. "Not too many of us would like that tone yer givin'."

Shelby wrinkled her nose as she took a sip, the bubbles tickling her nostrils. The air between them was thick as he let his statement hang over them. She'd been around enough MCs to know that a man in a cut was to be respected at all times no matter their position, regardless of her connection. She took a deep breath before meeting Chibs gaze. "I apologize," she finally told him, her fingers tight on the sweating glass. "I'm just distracted."

He slowly nodded and gave her a pat on the shoulder. "No harm, aye, darlin'?" He took another swallow of his beer. "Anythin' I can be helpin' ya with?"

The brunette sighed, taking another sip of her soda before settling the glass back on the bar. "You happen to have a time machine?" she asked, a teasing note in her question.

Chibs chuckled. "Lassie, ef'n I did, I could safely promise ya I wouldn't be sittin' beside ya." He slid off the stool. "But sometimes things work out better than ya would think they should, don't ya think?" He gave her a wink, tilting his bottle towards her before making his way to the dorms.

* * *

><p>Tig sat at the bar, nursing a beer as he moved his eyes over the room, scanning the crowd. He wasn't generally so picky in choosing a partner (or more) for the night, but with such a fine crop, he didn't want to be too hasty. He caught the eye of a petite brunette who gave him a seductive smile, ignoring the attentions of the hanger-on beside her.<p>

"I think she likes you."

He glanced up to see Jury slide onto the stool next to him, a bottle tight in his own fist. A grin crossed his face. "I think I'll more than like her too, but I don't want to make any rash decisions."

The Indian Hills president nodded his understanding. "I hear that, but between you and me, Ashlyn is one of the best at keeping a man company."

Tig stroked his chin. "Is that right?" He scanned the brunette one last time before shifting his gaze back to his older counterpart. "I'll keep that in mind."

Jury raised an eyebrow, taking a swallow of his brew. "You don't seem like the waiting type," he admitted, settling the drink on the bartop.

"Was actually hopin' to pick your brain for a few," Tig replied, settling his empty bottle to the side. "Before I get around to playin'."

The older man shot him a curious look. "Find something wrong with your stock?" he asked, gesturing to the sweetbutt behind the bar to top them both off. "Got my best men keeping an eye for you."

Tig shook his head, shivering as his fingers brushed over the icy glass of the fresh bottle. "Nah, stock is looking good… Clay will be pleased."

"Then I'm not sure what I can help you with," Jury admitted, resting his elbow along the bar.

The darker man cleared his throat. "You have a pretty decent stable here," he began, gesturing to the women scattered around the clubhouse.

The elder chuckled. "I've heard about your affinity for the girls," he agreed.

Tig grinned. "You up to date on their pedigrees?"

Jury nodded. "They're good girls," he confirmed. "I feel like you're going somewhere with this."

Tig shook his head. "Actually wanted to ask you about one of your formers," he admitted, lifting his beer and taking a swig.

"Oh? Which one? We don't lose too many," Jury replied.

Tig picked at the label on his bottle. "Shelby Lerner ring any bells?"

A fond smile crossed the man's face. "Shelby was a good one," he replied. "Might have been one of our best. She came to the clubhouse awfully young, but she settled right in. Good old lady material, that one."

"She was just a sweetbutt then?" Tig pressed.

Jury took a thoughtful pause, taking another swallow of his brew. "She was until she shacked up with Bryant Wade about five years ago," he explained. "She still tried to keep up, taking care of the rest of us old boys, but Wade was never keen on sharing, so she started showing up at the clubhouse less and less. Stayed in touch with our little Cherry tartlet, so I was able to keep up through that connection until she made her way to you." The man cleared his throat. "I haven't actually seen Shelby since the patch over, though."

Tig blinked in confusion. "She was _here_?" he asked in surprise. "Just the party?" He couldn't imagine that she would have slipped through his radar, but he had been with Juice that night. She must've left before he came in.

Jury shook his head. "Nah, she was here for the Mayan greeting the next morning," he continued. "She gave Cherry a hand."

"But if she was Wade's old lady... didn't he leave after you traded cuts?" Tig pushed.

Jury nodded. "Tried to drag her out with him, but she wanted to stay, stubborn girl, that one." He finished his drink and gestured for another. "Why do you have so many questions about her?"

Tig cleared his throat. "She's apparently a Charming girl... showed up not too long ago and heard she had roots back here."

Jury chuckled. "Doing your homework, I can respect that." He tapped his fingers on the bar. "How's she look?"

The darker man narrowed his eyes in confusion. "Now I think you're asking something specific."

Jury sighed, rubbing a hand over his face. "I don't get involved with the guys and what they do with their old ladies because it's none of my business and I don't judge anyone's… kinks, if you will." He gave Tig a pointed look and the other man couldn't help but grin. The president gave a sigh before he pinched the bridge of his nose. "But Shelby wasn't even 18 when she begged me to give her a place to stay, promising me she knew her place, knew what to do." He gave a fond smile. "I probably care about that girl more than I should… ain't like she's the first..."

"Not sure what you're getting at," Tig interjected, suddenly uncomfortable.

The older man's expression turned hard. "He beat that poor girl, beat her til she could barely see, hardly move. Put her in the ER more than once." He shook his head in disgust.

Tig swallowed hard, a unfamiliar pit forming in his stomach. It didn't make any sense. He wasn't a stranger to domestic abuse. Exposure to that came with the life. But even Tig didn't lift a hand to a woman in such a manner. He didn't mind giving a little bit of pain… his romp with Shelby was proof of that. But she'd practically _begged _for it… "She doesn't seem like the type to stick around for that shit," he finally replied, his hands flexing on his still full bottle.

Jury shoved himself up from the stool, a humorless smile on his lips. "Doesn't mean they don't," he pointed out, tapping his drink to Tig's. "Let her know I'm thinking about her," he requested, his gaze moving over to Ashlyn. "Think you missed your shot."

Tig glanced over to see Happy pulling the girl down the hall, disappearing into the darkness. He let out a grunt, turning to face the bar. To his surprise, he really wasn't all that disappointed at the loss.


	14. Runnin'

**Author's Note: **Hey guys, I'm alive…. I'll be honest, I've actually been sitting on this for awhile, letting it marinate, messing with it every so often. I probably should have posted awhile ago, but well, here we are. I hope you're still managing to stick with me. I know it's a pain in the ass and easy to lose interest when stories stall out, so if you're sticking around, I am so, so grateful. Anyway, thank you to all of you that have read/favorited/alerted/reviewed. I appreciate each and every one of you more than I can possibly tell you. Special thanks and kisses to **mrsreedus69, Valerie E. Mackin, OnTheWildside**… you three have taken the time to pretty much review each chapter and that means the world. Thank you. Enough of my babbling. Enjoy and hopefully I'll get around to chapter 15 sooner rather than later. Kisses!

**Disclaimer: **I have no claim to SOA, Opie, Tig, etc. Those rights belong to Kurt Sutter, Ryan Hurst, Kim Coates, etc. But thank you to them for bringing them to my life, ha. 'Madness' belongs to Muse, 'Runnin'' is Adam Lambert. All I can truly lay claim to is Shelby and Amber.

'_**I've been standin' here my whole life, everything I've seen twice, now it's time I realize, it's spinning back around now, on this road I'm crawling, save me 'cause I'm falling, now I can't seem to breathe right… 'cause I keep runnin', runnin', runnin', runnin', runnin', runnin', runnin', runnin'... runnin' from my heart…'**_

"So, Mom wants to have another dinner."

Opie glanced up from the bike he was working on. "What, another 'family' dinner?"

Jax shrugged, crossing his arms over his chest. "Yeah, y'know, the usual," he returned, slipping a cigarette between his lips. "Guys from the club, their ladies, maybe a sweetbutt or two to help out. You know how Ma gets…" He cupped a hand around the cylinder as he held his lighter to the tip.

Opie nodded, tossing his wrench into the toolbox and grabbing the lukewarm beer from the ground. "Feel like there's a little more to this," he pointed out, grimacing at the taste of his brew as he drained it.

The VP blew a plume of smoke into the air as he ran his free hand through his hair and gave his old friend a look. "Think you'd want to bring Shel with you?"

Opie's eyes narrowed in confusion as he tossed his empty bottle in the trash bin. "Gemma doesn't like Shelby," he replied. "I wouldn't want to put her through that."

The blond gave another shrug. "She specifically ordered me to have you bring Shelby." He took another puff, eyeing his friend carefully.

The bearded man blinked, unsure how to reply. It wasn't exactly a secret to anyone that Gemma was especially hard to please. She didn't tend to willingly get along with many people, especially women. The matriarch had never completely warmed to the Lerner family as a whole, but she especially didn't take to Shelby. Even when the girl was a child, Gemma had eyed her with distaste, not to mention distrust, blaming the obvious rebellious streak she seemed to hone over the years until she left Charming.

Jax smirked at the obvious confusion painting his best friend's expression. "Think Gemma's worried about you," he admitted. "Wants to make sure you have someone with you because it's not like you can turn down the invitation and tell her no. She wants you to have someone to hold onto or some shit."

Opie let out a grunt, crossing the garage to the fridge and pulling out another beer. He gestured to Jax, offering him one, the other man shaking his head. "Don't know if Shelby will be interested," he replied, twisting off the top and taking a pull as he stood to full height.

The blond raised an eyebrow, gripping his cigarette between his first two fingers and lowering it to his side. "Why's that? You two have been pretty close since she got back."

Opie pulled himself onto his workbench, letting his bottle dangle between his thighs. "Actually haven't seen or heard from her in a couple days. Think she's been wanting some space."

The VP knit his brow in confusion. "Thought we were keeping an eye on her until we were sure threats were taken care of."

Opie shrugged. "Heard she's been staying near the clubhouse… I asked Chibs to keep an eye on her."

"What happened to that being your responsibility?" Jax pressed, tapping ash to the ground. "You were pushing pretty hard at the table the other day… hadn't seen you like that in awhile."

He didn't immediately reply, rubbing a hand over his face. He didn't want to be honest and let Jax know that the lack of interaction wasn't his choice. The girl was obviously avoiding him. Since she had left his house to avoid answering questions about her cuts and bruising, she had stayed away. He had gone by Amber's to find that she hadn't been home and when he called, she didn't answer the phone, sometimes even going straight to voicemail. If it weren't for Chibs mentioning that she had been at the clubhouse, he would have thought she left town again.

"What's going on, Op?"

Opie lifted his eyes to meet his friend's concerned expression. "Not sure what-"

The VP cut him off. "I don't need you to lie to me, bro," he told him, taking one last drag before dropping his smoke to the ground and crushing it under his heel. "Let me shoulder some of this load. I know you're not telling me everything when it comes to Shelby and generally I'd be alright with that, but you're not yourself these days, Opie." Jax let out a sigh, crossing the garage and resting a hand on his shoulder. "You have every reason in the world to be going through what you're dealing with, but you don't need to be alone. You're my best friend, my brother. Just talk to me."

Opie stayed quiet, his gaze fixed on the mouth of his bottle. He really wasn't sure what to tell Jax, if he was being honest. He wasn't intentionally hiding anything, not the way he could feel deep in his bones that Shelby was. He honestly just didn't have any answers for his friend, just gut feelings and long buried feelings for a girl that he should have long forgotten about. He slowly lifted his head to meet Jax's intense gaze. "I promise that I'm alright, brother," he finally replied, pushing himself off the workbench and clapping his own hand on the shorter man's shoulder. "Not trying to push you away, just let me work things out on my own time."

The blond eyed him in silence for several beats before letting a grin break over his face. "Alright, but you better let me know how it goes when you get it in," he teased, trying to lighten the moment. "Shelby seems like she'd be a wild ride."

Opie rolled his eyes and cuffed his friend over the head. "Is that all you think about?"

* * *

><p>Shelby stared at her phone, Amber's name bright across the screen. She let out a quiet sigh, pressing ignore and pocketing the plastic. She wrapped an arm around her knees and brought them to her chin, staring across the diner lot from her perch on the hood of the wagon.<p>

She knew she was running out of time. Amber had given her a deadline and she had less than two days left. The brunette was more than aware that she should just lay all her cards on the table, just tell her friend everything… if for no other reason, it would lighten her own load. But she just didn't know if she was ready and it wouldn't change anything. It wouldn't change the past, Bryant would still be out there…

Shelby hadn't received any more messages but she wasn't a fool. The text had been a warning, an ominous 'hello'. He always found her... why had she thought that coming to Charming would have any sort of other outcome? It didn't matter who she knew, where she tried to hide, who she attempted to be… there wasn't any true escape and it shouldn't have taken her so long to figure that out. There were only one of two ways that this could all end…

Her thoughts were interrupted as her phone went off again. She let out a quiet sigh, pulling it out of her pocket. Opie's name flashed across the screen. If she was honest, she really didn't want to talk to her brother-in-law either. She didn't want to have to continue to avoid his questions, look in his eyes and keep lying to him about Bryant, Tig, and so many other things. But the other part of her knew there was only so much she could run from, so much energy she had and she was slowly tapping out. She bit her lower lip and answered the call, lifting the phone to her ear. "Hello," she murmured, her eyes staring ahead.

"_Finally decided to answer?"_ he asked. He didn't sound upset, just slightly surprised, almost as though he had anticipated another call being sent to voicemail.

"I've been busy," she replied quietly, her fingers absently toying with a hole in the knee of her jeans.

Opie let out a snort on the other end. "_With what? You haven't been in town long enough, so it's not like you have a job or anything like that."_

Shelby couldn't help but scowl at his tone. "If you called to parent me, you can turn that to your kids," she snapped.

He took a deep breath, seeming to weigh his words carefully. "_That's not why I'm calling. I'm worried about-"_

She shook her head and let out a quiet grunt. "I told you, I don't need you to worry about me," she interjected. "I'm fine, Opie."

"_That's debatable." _

They both sat in silence, only their breathing on each end of the phone and Shelby could feel herself getting antsy. "Why are you calling me?" she finally asked.

"_What are you doing for dinner?"_

Shelby furrowed her brow at the unexpected question. "Probably eating, but depends on how the day goes."

"_You think you're cute, don't you?"_

She couldn't help her giggle. "I know I'm cute, actually." She composed herself, sliding off the car and twirling her keys around her finger. "Why are you asking though?"

"_Have dinner with me at Gemma's."_

The brunette couldn't help her cough of surprise. "As in Jax's mother?" she rasped, her eyes wide.

Opie let out a chuckle. "_You know any others?"_

"Op, Gemma hates me, she wouldn't want me in her home." Shelby could feel the tightness in her stomach, the same feeling she had gotten when she had to be in the office with the woman. Not much scared her, but Gemma Teller-Morrow was most definitely on that short list. The less exposure she had to the queen of SAMCRO, the happier they would both be.

"_Gem's the one that extended the invitation, Shel."_

The brunette froze, the phone pressed to her ear so tightly that it was almost painful. She hadn't expected that. Not only that, she didn't believe it. "What?"

He let out a chuckle. "_Just come with me,"_ he pushed. "_I'll stay by your side the whole time, promise."_

She swallowed, her fingers gripping the phone. She really had no desire to go, but didn't see a real way to get out of it. "How many people will be there?" she finally asked.

"_Just the club really… Jax and Tara will probably bring Abel… Chibs, Juice, Bobby, obviously Clay… just the family, the club."_

Shelby noticed one name was missing from his headcount, but wasn't sure how to ask without drawing suspicion.

"_Tig would be there, but he had to go out of town for a couple days."_

She let out a quiet sigh of relief as he answered the question she hadn't wanted to ask. She couldn't help but be glad at that unexpected reprieve. Tig's presence kept making things more complicated for her and this dinner would be tense enough. "Sounds like fun," she replied, her voice quiet.

Opie laughed. "_I'll protect you," _he promised again. "_You want me to pick you up?"_

Shelby chewed her lower lip and nodded. "How about I meet you at the clubhouse and we go from there?"

He voiced his agreement and after a handful of words, she ended the call, promising to be at the clubhouse at 6:15. She pocketed the plastic, pulling out a pack of cigarettes to pound against her hand. She wasn't sure what to expect, but she had a feeling she was in for quite an evening.

* * *

><p>Tig lifted his hand in a wave as he and Happy split off, the killer heading back towards Tacoma. The SAMCRO SAA let his Dyna pick up speed as he moved down the highway towards Charming, oddly aware of how alone he was on the road. He wasn't used to riding solo and part of him was surprised that he hadn't pushed Clay to let him take the Prospect. But the larger portion knew that the alone time was better, that he had a lot on his mind.<p>

The conversation with Jury had stuck with him, replaying through his mind for hours. He'd thought that once he had certain answers, his interest and concern would fade. He'd let Clay know what they were dealing with and send the girl on her way. But now his interest and curiosity were piqued.

Tig really wasn't all that shocked that Shelby had ended up in Charming if she was as abused as Jury had described. She would have wanted to go somewhere she felt safe and Opie would have been that for her. What _did _surprise him was that she seemed to be holding everything so close to the chest. She wasn't playing any sort of victim and as far as he could tell, she wasn't actually asking for any sort of protection… at least not straight out.

He switched lanes almost automatically, glancing over his shoulder before refocusing on the road ahead, sinking back into his thoughts, the image of Shelby back at the forefront of his mind.


	15. Gods & Monsters

**Author's Note: **So, I know this is a pretty quick update (especially considering the last few took like a month). But this actually flowed pretty easily and I figured, why not? Otherwise, I'd just keep unnecessarily tweaking. So, here! Read! Enjoy! Anyways... thank you for all the reads/alerts/favorites/reviews. It's really nice to know people are actually enjoying this. Special thank you as always to **mrsreedus69, OnTheWildside **for taking the time to review. I really appreciate your kind words and your thoughts on this piece. I'll stop babbling so you can get to chapter 15. Hopefully I can be pretty quick with the next!

**Disclaimer: **I have no claim to SOA, Opie, Tig, etc. Those rights belong to Kurt Sutter, Ryan Hurst, Kim Coates, etc. But thank you to them for bringing them to my life, ha. 'Madness' belongs to Muse, 'Gods & Monsters' is Lana Del Rey. All I can truly lay claim to is Shelby and Amber.

'_**In the land of gods and monsters, I was an angel… living in the garden of evil… screwed up, scared, doing anything that I needed… shining like a fiery beacon...'**_

Shelby gazed up at the house as Opie parked his Harley along the curb, her hands fisted tightly in his cut. She swallowed heavily, trying to ignore the gnawing feeling in her stomach.

"You okay?"

The brunette shifted her gaze to see Opie glancing over his shoulder, his hand light on her knee. "Great," she replied, a fake smile stretching across her lips.

He shook his head, giving her knee a gentle squeeze before pushing himself off the bike. He turned towards her as he pulled off his helmet, letting it hang from the handlebar. "What are you so nervous about anyway?" he pressed, reaching forward to take off her helmet, the tips of his fingers brushing over the soft skin of her chin.

She bit her lower lip, watching him. "I can take that off on my own, y'know..." she told him softly.

Opie met her gaze and gave her a small smile. "Humor me," he replied. "And stop avoiding the question."

The brunette let out a quiet sigh and ran her fingers through her hair as he placed the helmet behind her. "I'm just…" She let out a frustrated huff and frowned. "I don't understand why I'm here."

"Maybe because you were invited?" he offered, extending her his hand.

She slid her palm over his and threw her leg over the bike to stand beside him, her green eyes wide and fixed on the house. "But it doesn't make any _sense_," she retorted, furrowing her brow. "Gemma doesn't even _like_ me."

Opie chuckled and slid his arm around her shoulders and pulled her to his side, brushing his lips over the top of her head. "The guys like you just fine," he reasoned, speaking into her hair. "And maybe she's coming around."

Shelby turned her head to meet his gaze and raised an eyebrow. "Do you honestly believe that?" she asked, her tone skeptical.

He didn't answer right away before clearing his throat and shaking his head. "How about we just go in?" he finally asked, guiding her up the sidewalk towards the door.

She couldn't help but roll her eyes. "Yeah, that's what I figured," she muttered, trying to swallow over the lump in her throat. Her fingers curled around Opie's leather as he pressed his finger to the doorbell, the chime making her heart skip a beat.

"Relax," he murmured, tucking her closer. "She won't bite."

A scowl settled over her mouth at the thought. "Her bark is still pretty rough," she replied, forcing a smile as the door was pulled open and the woman in question stood in the doorway.

Gemma's eyebrow arched as she took in the closeness of the two along with Shelby's hands being empty. "I didn't mention this was a potluck?" she greeted, a faux sweetness coloring her tone.

"Gem," Opie replied, a warning behind the word.

"I'm sorry, Mrs. Teller-Morrow," Shelby interjected, cutting the man off. "I don't really have much access to a kitchen at the moment, so I couldn't make something to contribute." She gave the woman a sweet smile. "I'm more than happy to give you a hand with anything, earn my spot at the table."

Gemma scoffed. "That's a given, baby," she replied, stepping to the side and letting the couple enter. Her eyes stayed on the petite brunette, scanning her, but she stayed quiet, letting her laser-like stare speak volumes.

"You have a beautiful home," Shelby complimented, consciously avoiding the woman's gaze, her fingers still tight in Opie's leather, using him as a sort of anchor.

"I know," Gemma replied, shutting the door. She glanced over her shoulder at the kitchen before turning back to the couple. "Maybe after dinner you'll get the grand tour."

"I'd like that," she replied, although the last thing she wanted was to be in this house any longer than truly necessary.

Opie cleared his throat, attempting to dissolve the obvious tension. "The guys here?"

Gemma nodded and gestured towards the dining room. "Grab a beer and go join them, baby."

He kissed her on the cheek before moving towards the room, his arm still around his sister-in-law, guiding her with him.

"Uh-uh," the matriarch tutted, laying a hand on Shelby's arm, making the brunette freeze. "That hand you offered? I could use it."

The younger woman looked up at Opie, her eyes wide. He gave a slight shake of the head before meeting Gemma's gaze and stepping to the side. "Be nice," he murmured with a smile before making his way into the living room, loud greetings sounding in his wake.

"I'm always nice," Gemma huffed before letting her eyes setting on the woman before her. "You know how to make a salad, darlin'?"

Shelby cleared her throat and plastered a smile on her face, trying to ignore the nervous butterflies in her stomach. "I'm sure I can get a handle on it," she replied, letting Gemma guide her into the kitchen.

* * *

><p>"<em>Dinner. House. Now."<em>

Tig let out a huff, his crystal eyes reading the abrupt text from Clay. He had planned on getting back to the clubhouse, grabbing a bottle of liquor, maybe a crow, and spending the night in his room until he passed out, whether from the alcohol or the sex, he really didn't care. He couldn't deny that he was hungry, his stomach rumbling at the very thought of Gemma's home-cooking, but he was exhausted, not to mention horny as all hell considering his last piece of action was the blow job before he hit the road the day before.

Suddenly, Donna's image filled his mind as she often seemed to at the most inopportune moments. The last dinner Gemma had held… that had been the night…

He grit his teeth trying to force the memory out of his mind. He hadn't _meant _to kill Donna… it was an awful, terrible _mistake_. Why couldn't he let himself forget? They needed to put it to bed, finish what he and Clay had put into motion. Trammell was delayed and both he and his president were getting antsy. They needed to let Opie take care of it, finish off whoever they decided was worth taking the fall…

The Sergeant let out a huff and shook his head. Now wasn't the time to drag all of this to the surface. Clay had promised him that he would be fine, swore none of this would blow back on either of them. He trusted his brother implicitly, he wasn't going to stop now.

He weighed his options, his gaze scanning the croweaters scattered around the lot waiting for the bulk of the club to return to the clubhouse. Deep down, he realized there was no real choice for him. Gemma would be livid if she found out he was back in Charming and not present at the meal, not to mention what Clay would do to him for not only missing a "club event" but also unnecessarily pissing off his old lady.

Tig rubbed his hands over his weathered face, pushing his riding glasses up into his curls. He let them fall back over his eyes, scrubbing his fingers over his chin, pondering. He wondered if Opie would be there, if by some off chance Shelby would be permitted to tag along, enter the queen's lair. He chuckled at the thought as he brought his ride back to life, savoring the vibrations as she purred. He tucked his phone back in his pocket before moving out of the lot, making his way to dinner, hoping that someone had saved him one of Luann's infamous biscuits.

* * *

><p>"Friendly advice… if you try not to breathe through your nose, it tends not to burn as much."<p>

Shelby lifted her teary gaze to see Tara giving her a friendly smile across the island. She lifted the hand holding her knife, rubbing her wrist against her eye to catch the tears. "Yeah, I always have a hard time with onions," she confessed, sniffing lightly. "I'll have to give that a try."

The doctor nodded and the two worked in silence as the other women bustled in and out of the kitchen, Gemma barking orders. Tara tossed a handful of shredded carrots into the salad bowl before giving her boyfriend's mother a quick glance and moving to stand next to the younger Lerner. "How are you holding up?" she asked, her voice soft.

The brunette cut her eyes at Tara. "I'm fine," she replied sharply.

Tara let out a quiet sigh. "I know we never really…" She weighed her words carefully. "We're not friends, I get that, but it's been ten years." She gave a shrug. "We're different people now."

Shelby lifted her cutting board and pushed the onion slices into the salad bowl, lifting her shoulder to wipe her cheek. "I'm honestly fine," she replied carefully, settling the wood back on the counter. "I appreciate your concern, I really do, but I'm okay."

The doctor nodded, grabbing the bowl of vegetables and tossing them as her counterpart poured a few capfuls of dressing in. "Well, if you need to talk to someone, I'm more than happy to listen. Just as someone who's not so… close, you know?"

"How about a little less talk, a little more work?" Gemma interrupted, her hand plucking a tomato from the bowl and tossing it in her mouth. "I'd like to be able to serve dinner before breakfast."

The two girls couldn't help the matching scowls that pulled at their mouths, but Tara moved back to the other side of the island without a word, grabbing a cooling loaf of sliced bread to take out to the table, disappearing from the kitchen.

"You two seemed awfully chummy," the matriarch observed, her eyebrow raised as she watched Shelby turn towards the sink to toss the remains of the vegetables into the garbage disposal.

The brunette arched her own brow, glancing back at Gemma as she flicked the switch, the grinder sounding through the kitchen. "Just catching up with old friends," she replied, flashing a false smile at the woman.

Gemma let out a snort, reaching past her to flip the disposal off. "You and Tara Knowles ain't never been friends, sweetheart," she retorted, leaning a hip against the counter, her arms crossed over her chest.

Shelby grit her teeth and stared out the window above the sink into the backyard, her eyes settling on Opie. She watched as he threw his head back and laughed at something Chibs said, the Scotsman making wild gestures as he told a story. "Why did you invite me here, Gemma?" she finally asked, glancing at the woman from the side. "To make me jump through hoops? To intimidate me? To test me? What?" She faced the woman head on, shoving any nervousness to the side. "If there's something you want from me, how about we just lay it all out on the table and stop playing this game?"

The older woman couldn't help the smirk that played over her lips. "Honey, I don't play games," she murmured, tucking a strand of hair behind Shelby's ear, letting her nails barely graze her skin. "I _invited _you because you're _family_."

Shelby's eyes narrowed and she forced herself to stay in place and not shrink away from the woman's touch. "Family?" she repeated, a note of disbelief in her tone. "Gem-"

Gemma shook her head and patted Shelby on the cheek. "You're doing good things for Opie," she murmured, lowering her hand. "And you said I should just accept that you aren't going anywhere, so that's what I'm doing."

The brunette blinked in surprise. She searched the other woman's face for insincerity, but she really couldn't read her. Her expression betrayed nothing, their eyes locked as they stared each other down. "Well… thank you…"

A smile pulled at the corner of Gemma's mouth. "Nothing to thank me for, sweetheart." She glanced to the side and motioned with her chin at the counter. "How about you take those plates out to the dining room?"

Shelby swallowed and nodded, grabbing the dishes and moving out of the kitchen.

Gemma watched her go, her eyes narrowed, her arms crossed over her chest. She still didn't trust the girl. Not in the slightest. But if she knew anything, the only way to get someone to let their guard down… well, keep your friends close and your enemies closer was a cliche for a reason.

* * *

><p>"Good to see you laughing earlier, son."<p>

Opie looked up to see Clay settling into the chair beside him. "Feels good to laugh," he admitted, picking at the label on his beer bottle.

The older man nodded, lifting his own brew to his mouth and taking a swallow. "I know how hard it is," he began, settling his drink to the side. "Losing someone like that, feeling like you can't escape that pain, that loss."

Opie swallowed, his mouth turning down in a frown. "John?" he finally asked, glancing over at his president.

"Among others," Clay replied, folding his hands in front of him. "This life… it ain't always easy… sometimes there's a price to pay. Just to even out the perks."

The younger biker couldn't help but scowl. "Don-" His voice cracked, not letting him finish the word. "Seems like a hefty price I had to pay," he finished, his voice thick. "Doesn't seem to necessarily even out."

The president shrugged. "Looks like it may have brought you something though."

Opie glanced over his shoulder to see Shelby walk into the dining room, settling plates at each spot on the table. He couldn't help the smile that pulled at his mouth as he watched her, her eyes meeting his through the glass door. She gave him a tiny wave before refocusing on her task.

Clay left out a chuckle. "Yeah, definite perks," he murmured, grabbing his bottle from the ground.

Opie turned back in his chair. "It's not like that," he replied, shaking his head.

The older man raised an eyebrow. "Maybe you should make it like that," he countered. "If you want something, you just gotta reach out and take it."

Opie wanted to argue, tell Clay it was too soon and that he couldn't with Shelby. But those seemed to be weak excuses, even in his own head. The only part that truly held him back was that she wasn't being honest with him and they both knew that. He knew that being less than honest was one of the problems that he and Donna had. He couldn't even attempt something with Shelby unless they were both clean and open. "Yeah," he finally murmured, trying to quiet the voices in his head.

Clay lifted himself to his feet and clapped a hand on the younger man's shoulder. "It'll get better, son," he murmured. "Just gotta let it." He gave Opie one last look before making his way back into the house.

Opie ran a hand over his beard, letting his eyes fall shut, his other hand flexing around his beer bottle. His fingers itched for a cigarette but he knew they'd be sitting to eat soon, not really enough time.

"Ya comin', Op?" Chips called, his head sticking out of the door with his glasses lowered down the bridge of his nose.

The younger man let out a sigh and pushed himself to his feet. "Course, I'm starvin'." He drained what was left of his brew, tossing into the can as he moved into the house.

The Scot clapped him on the back. "Let's eat, brotha," he drawled with a grin, making his way to an open seat.


	16. I Can't Stay Away

**Author's Note: **Oh, hey, remember me? I know, I know... I realize it's been over a month and I'm a shit and I suck. I'm sorry. Alright, now that that's out of the way... here's chapter 16. One, it's pretty big. Two, it's rated M for a reason. Three, I hope I didn't make anyone OOC. I feel like there's a shit-ton of stuff in this chapter... But as I was writing it, things just kept happening and developing and I'm pretty much throwing this up while I feel like there's actually a breaking point. And now I'm babbling. Let me not put any sort of spin on it... how about I just let you read it and then you let me know what you think... sound good?

As always, I want to thank everyone who has read/favorited/followed/reviewed. I hope that I'm not losing anyone with these gaps (but I would understand if I was). Special thank yous (and cookies) to **mrsreedus69, OnTheWildside, Valerie E. Mackin**. Your reviews give me life.

**Disclaimer: **I have no claim to SOA, Opie, Tig, etc. Those rights belong to Kurt Sutter, Ryan Hurst, Kim Coates, etc. But thank you to them for bringing them to my life, ha. 'Madness' belongs to Muse, 'I Can't Stay Away' is The Veronicas. All I can truly lay claim to is Shelby and Amber.

'_**I'm conflicted… I inhale now I'm addicted… to this place… to you, babe… I can't stay away, can't stay away...'**_

Tig pulled his bike to the curb, his gaze travelling over the vehicles that littered the front of the house to determine who might be inside. Chibs… Sack… Juice… Jax plus the obvious one…

His eyes settled on Opie's ride, observing the fact that two helmets were present. There were only so many "dates" the younger man could have brought, but the Sergeant couldn't help his curiosity given Gemma's obvious distaste for the most likely candidate.

The dark man's mouth twitched as he gently loosened his helmet, throwing his leg over the bike to stand up straight on tired limbs. His eyes travelled to the silhouettes behind the curtain of the front window. He recognized the movement as they were migrating towards the dining room. He must have made it just in time for dinner.

He pushed his hand through his hair as he made his way to the front door, his boots deafening against the cement of the sidewalk in quiet twilight. His footfalls felt heavy, but he pushed on, knowing he had to be at the meal, no matter the exhaustion. He rested his hand on the door knob, his lips quirking in a smirk before turning the brass beneath his palm.

* * *

><p>"You okay?"<p>

Shelby glanced at Opie to her left at his quiet question. She could hear the concern in his tone and she couldn't help the smile that pulled at her lips. "I'm fine," she murmured, her eyes moving across the table to see Gemma watching them carefully. "Just fine."

The brunette could feel the simmering distrust in the matriarch's stare. She hadn't believed for a minute that Gemma had suddenly had some sort of change of heart and suddenly was willing to accept the "prodigal daughter" into a fold that her family had never truly managed to be accepted into. She knew that this dinner was a means to an end, find some sort of weakness, open her to exposure, prove that Gemma Teller-Morrow had been right all along.

"... even listening?""

Shelby blinked, her eyes moving to meet Opie's. "What's up?"

He chuckled and closed a hand over her shoulder. "I think I lost you for a second there," he replied, moving his hand to rest against her throat, his thumb absently rubbing over the still healing cut. "Distracted?"

She shook her head, biting her lower lip as fingers moved to glide over the lines of her jaw. "Still a lot to take in," she admitted. She shrugged and tried to ignore the way her stomach fluttered as he continued to stare into her eyes, his hand moving to brush a lock of hair behind her ear. He had been different since they sat down at the table. She couldn't pinpoint the exact change, but his gaze was softer, his touches longer…

"Should we be leavin' ya two 'lone?"

They both snapped out of their trance at Chibs' teasing brogue, smirks playing over the mouths of most of the table. "You jealous I ain't talkin' to you this way, Chibby?" Opie retorted, tossing his napkin across the table.

The Scot snatched the cloth out of the air and grinned. "That's what I be havin' Juicy boy here for, aye?" He wrapped an arm around the Puerto Rican and planted a loud kiss on the younger man's temple.

"Christ," Juice cursed, shoving his friend away. "How do I get dragged into your shit?"

"Just so damn pretty, Juicy boy," Bobby crowed, giving him a grin. "Even without a nice set of tits."

Shelby giggled quietly and shook her head, thankful that the focus had been pulled in another direction. She lifted her napkin and gently touched it to her lips as she stood up from her seat.

"And just where are you going, Shel?" Jax called from his place further down the table, his arm draped over the back of Tara's chair, his other hand gripping a fork tightly as he loaded it with a mouthful of potato casserole. "We too much for you to handle?" He grinned at her and shoveled the food in his mouth.

The brunette wrinkled her nose as the she regained the table's attention. "Can't a girl use the restroom without giving a formal announcement?" she asked, settling her napkin beside her plate.

"Not in this house," the blond replied, giving her a wink, his eyes sparkling with mirth.

Tara rolled her eyes and elbowed her boyfriend lightly. "Can you just let her go?" she asked, glancing over at Shelby and giving a shrug. "Can't take him anywhere, I swear."

Shelby left out a quiet chuckle. "I won't be long," she assured them both as she moved to walk away from the table. She felt the light touch of Opie's fingers on her wrist, but she continued walking down the hall, trying to ignore the burn of Gemma's stare.

She ducked into the bathroom and shoved the door shut behind her, letting out a breath that she felt like she had been holding since she had slid behind Opie on his bike. She squeezed her eyes shut and let her head hang heavy between her shoulders, her palms flat against the marble counter as she tried to calm the tight knots in her stomach. She had known this meal would be hard, but she hadn't expected it to be downright _exhausting_.

"You doin' alright, doll?"

Her head snapped up and her eyes quickly met Tig's intense stare in the mirror from where he sat on the edge of the tub. She whipped around, her breath catching in her throat as the bathroom seemed to close in, making distance between them almost impossible, the air suddenly electric. "I thought you were on the road, that you couldn't make it tonight."

"You worried about me?" he teased, flexing his fingers on the edge of the tub, the metal in his rings catching the light.

Shelby shook her head and cleared her throat. "Just confused," she admitted.

"Just got back," he replied, his gaze on her lips as he pushed himself to his feet, his bones cracking as they settled. "Saw you duck in here, thought I might say hello to _you _first."

She swallowed and inhaled sharply, the smell of the wind and his cheap aftershave filling her nostrils, making her shiver. "Somehow I don't think a 'hello' is all you're looking for," she replied.

Tig chuckled, running his hand through his unruly curls, but stayed quiet, letting the tension in the small space build, savoring her uncharacteristic anxiety.

"What are you doing in here?" she asked, breaking the silence. The brunette watched him take his time as he stepped towards her, his movements almost liquid with his predatory approach. She pressed her back to the sink, trying to inch away from him.

Tig's lips twitched as he settled his hands on the marble behind her, blocking her in, his body effectively pinning hers in place. "Just told you. And I thought maybe we could finish what we started the other day in the car," he offered, running his nose along her jawline, grinning as she shuddered. "Maybe get you to return that favor I gave you?"

"I really don't think Gemma would appreciate that happening in her bathroom," she whispered, turning her head away and squeezing her eyes shut. She bit her lower lip as she attempted to gain some semblance of control, hating that he'd managed to catch her so off-guard.

"Then we'll just have to keep quiet, not let her know," he argued, moving a hand to grab her chin and turn her face back toward his.

The brunette's eyes flew open in surprise and she nearly gasped when she realized how close his face was, their noses brushing. "Opie-"

Tig clucked his tongue, cutting her off. "I think it's about time you realize something, darlin'... I don't give a shit about Opie," he interjected. He didn't let her reply, his mouth sealing over hers as his hand spanned across her throat.

Shelby's fingers curled in his leather, attempting to push him away. She tilted her head back, gently hitting the cool glass of the mirror. She let out a groan as Tig seemed unphased, his lips moving lower following his hand as it slipped down the column of her throat before closing over her breast. "Tig, we can't-" She keened as he pinched her nipple between his fingers, her hips arching to meet his.

Deep down he knew he should listen to her. Gemma would have his balls on her mantle if she found out what the hell he was doing under her roof and _who _he was doing it _with_, but he couldn't bring himself to care as he hauled the brunette up onto the sink, slanting his mouth over hers again, one hand fisting in her hair as the other moved to his belt, pulling it through the buckle. He pushed his pants off his hips, hissing against her lips as the cool air hit his prick.

Shelby felt her legs spread even wider as Tig moved a hand to the small of her back and brought her forward on the counter, her ass perched on the lip. She exhaled through clenched teeth as she felt the head of his cock slide over her panty covered clit, rubbing the lace against her in just the right way. Her fingers snared his curls as he pulled the crotch of her panties to the side, his dick sliding home making them both groan at the tight fit. "Oh, fuck," she gasped before sliding her mouth over his to stay quiet.

Her taste burst over his tongue and the idea that he'd missed it flashed through his mind. He shoved such a sentimental thought from his brain, blaming the ideas on what Jury had told him, make him feel things he had no business even recognizing. He worked to focus on the way she clenched around his thick cock, her tongue gliding against his, soft whimpers ripping from her throat as he pounded into her, the toothbrush holder clattering into the sink from the bruising force of his thrusts.

"Tig," she breathed, her mouth against his ear. He just barely managed to fit inside her, filling her to the point of almost painful as he sawed in and out, seeming to go deeper on each pass. Her knuckles went white as she gripped his hair even tighter, trying to hold on, forcing herself to stay quiet. She closed her teeth over his earlobe, squeezing her eyes shut as she worried the tender flesh, her tongue flicking over it.

His hands moved to grip her hips, his fingers digging into her skin as he brought her to meet him on each thrust. He rested his forehead against her shoulder, panting into her skin as he worked toward his release. Harsh grunts and muffled whines filled the small space, creating a quiet rhythm mixing with the sounds of skin slapping against skin.

"Please," she whispered, pressing her face to his neck, her heated breath making him shudder.

Tig let out a huff, slipping one of his hands between them. Without breaking stride, he flicked a digit over her clit, relishing how wet she was beneath his finger.

"Shel?"

They both froze at the unexpected sound of Opie's voice on the other side of the door, followed by a light tap of his knuckles against the wood. Tig panted, his warm breath painting her shoulder and a drop of sweat making its way down his temple as he struggled to stay still.

"Yeah?" Shelby grimaced at the strangled sound of her voice and her mouth dropped open as the man in front of her adjusted slightly, his cock hitting her just right inside.

"You alright?"

She cleared her throat and let out an exhale, her nostrils flaring as she tilted her head away from Tig to lean back against the mirror. "I'll be out in a minute," she called. She hissed quietly as the finger between her thighs fluttered followed by a dark chuckle in her ear.

"You sure? You sound a bit off…"

Tig let out a snort of annoyance and disbelief. Couldn't the kid take a hint and let him finish what he'd started? His eyes narrowed as Shelby clapped a hand over his mouth. He couldn't help but dig his teeth into her palm, hard enough to make her wince.

"Opie, I'll be out in a minute, honest," she repeated, glaring at the darker man as she pulled her hand away, inspecting the teeth marks he'd left behind.

They listened carefully as Opie let out a quiet sigh on the other side of the door. "Alright," he finally murmured before they heard his heavy steps move away from the bathroom.

Shelby couldn't help the sigh that escaped as her body sagged with relief. Her eyes met Tig's before she pushed her hands against his shoulders. "Get off me," she grunted, trying to slide away from him on the marble.

He scowled and looked down at where they were still connected. "I ain't done with you yet," he nearly snarled, his finger pressing against her clit.

The brunette pressed her lips together as a shudder ran through her body. "The mood is dead," she snapped, successfully managing to shove him away from her. "And I already told you no." She smoothed her skirt over her thighs, actually thankful for the interruption and the fact that it had brought her back to reality as she moved off the countertop and turned towards the mirror, grimacing at her reflection.

Tig stood behind her, his scowl deepening as he watched her examine her appearance. He tucked his dick back into his jeans, wincing at the unwelcome pressure and lack of release. "You're a fuckin' cocktease, y'know that?" he growled as he slipped his belt through its' buckle.

Shelby rolled her eyes and fluffed her hair before turning back to face him. "Now isn't the time," she replied. "It's your own fault for starting something that you had no business even _trying_." She moved towards him and pressed her lips against his cheek, letting her fingers trail over his jawline. "Maybe if you're a really good boy, I'll give you a hand later," she murmured, reaching past him to grab the doorknob. "Give me a bit of a hard start, would you?" She didn't wait for a reply before slipping out the door and pulling it shut behind her, leaving him with nothing but their intermingled scents in the small space.

* * *

><p>Opie pushed his food around his plate, unable to focus on the idle chatter and the laughter surrounding him.<p>

"Did I miss anything?"

He glanced to his left as Shelby settled back in her seat, pulling the chair closer to the table. "Not a thing," he replied, his gaze moving over her. "You alright?"

The brunette gave him a smile, tossing her hair over her shoulder before grabbing the biscuit on the side of her plate and sliding it through a puddle of gravy. "You worry too much, Op," she murmured, popping the food into her mouth and giving him a smile.

"Tiggy, you made it!"

Opie's gaze shifted at Luann's exclamation as the Sergeant slid into the open chair across from Shelby. "That I did, doll," he drawled, grinning up at the sweetbutt that placed a plate in front of him.

"Wasn't sure we'd be seeing you," Gemma remarked, folding her hands under her chin.

He scoffed. "Like I'd miss your cookin', mama," he replied, filling his plate to the brim. "Though I had a bit of a snack to tide me over," he admitted, his eyes moving over the group at the table. "Wasn't all that satisfying though."

Opie's eyes narrowed as he noticed Tig's attention linger on the brunette beside him, but he managed to bite his tongue, not wanting to cause a scene in Gemma's home. He really didn't like the attention that his brother tended to give his sister-in-law, not trusting the man. He wasn't sure exactly what Tig may or may not have been looking for, but he was confident that it wouldn't be any good for Shelby.

Shelby shoved a forkful of now cold food into her mouth, avoiding the older man's heated stare. She heard the taunting in his tone, noticed the way he was baiting her, but she refused to participate.

"Some little tartlet didn't help satisfy the cravings?" Bobby asked, scooping more food on his plate.

"Bitch left me high and dry," Tig admitted sadly, tossing three biscuits on his plate.

"Boys," Gemma warned, shaking her head.

Jax chuckled. "C'mon, ma, you won't let us talk about the club, least you can do is let Tig entertain us with his escapades." He let out a quiet 'oof' as an elbow jabbed his side.

"Maybe the rest of us prefer to talk about more family friendly topics," Tara countered, giving her boyfriend a look.

The blond grinned before slanting his mouth over hers to cut off her complaints.

"How about we talk about work then?" Tig offered. "Like Luann's." He grinned wickedly, his eyes flashing.

Opie let out a snort amongst the chuckles that erupted from the group. "Subtle, Tig," he remarked, draping his arm across the back of Shelby's chair.

The older man gave him a look of innocence. "Can't a man just wanna talk to his dear old friend about her career choice?"

Chibs nearly howled. "Aye, not a thing wrong with talkin' about pussy in tha professional sense," the Scot agreed.

Tig swallowed a mouthful of chicken before pointing his fork across the table. "Ain't you living with one of Lu's harem?"

Shelby lifted her green eyes to meet Tig's smirk. "If you're referring to my best friend, Amber, then yes, I'm staying with her." She gave him a forced smile.

"_You're_ the one staying with Amber?" Luann asked from the other end of the table. Her wide eyes moved between Opie and Shelby. "Small world we got."

Shelby shrugged. "Charming is only so big," she replied, lifting her fork to her mouth.

"And some people just have a talent of finding the right people to know," Gemma pointed out, giving Shelby a smile that didn't quite reach her eyes.

The brunette returned the insincere expression. "I guess you'd know better than anyone, Mrs. _Morrow_," she replied, her voice dripping with faux sweetness as she closed her lips around a bite, chewing slowly as she pulled the fork from her mouth.

Tig coughed into his fist and adjusted in his seat, his already hard cock seeming to press even more insistently against his thigh against the sudden power struggle between the two women. "Now, now, ladies-"

"You got something you want to say to me, sweetheart?" Gemma snapped, barely acknowledging that Tig had spoken.

The room went quiet, waiting for Shelby's response. The brunette slowly settled her fork on her plate before reaching for her napkin and delicately touching the corners of her mouth before she lifted her gaze to meet the older woman's hardened stare. "I think it's more that you have something you want to say to _me_," she finally replied.

"Shelby…" Opie murmured, shaking his head. "Don't-"

The brunette shook her head. "I'm sick of this shit, Gemma," she spat, pushing herself to her feet. "I don't know who the hell you think you are-"

A smirk settled over the older woman's lips. "Who I think _I_ am?" she returned. "Honey, you are in _my _house, what gives you the right to talk to me like that?"

"Ma, calm down-"

"Oh, no, Jax, let your mother do what she does best," Shelby snapped. "It's Gemma Teller-Morrow's world, the rest of us are just allowed to settle here as she sees fit."

Opie stood up from his own chair, attempting to diffuse the situation. "Maybe Shelby and I should go-"

"You need to get off your own high horse, baby," Gemma snarled, moving to her own feet, her eyes shooting daggers at her younger counterpart. "I invited you here as a kindness to Opie-"

"Oh, fuck you, _Gemma_, you invited me here for your own Goddamn agenda," the brunette interjected.

"Pretty fucking brave to spout that venom with a couple pieces of wood between us, aren't you?" the matriarch replied, trying to move past where Clay had stood to block her.

Shelby sneered at her as Opie pulled her from the room. "If you want to have this conversation without a table, I'd be more than happy to oblige you," she snapped.

Opie suddenly grabbed her and threw her over her shoulder. "That's enough," he told her decisively.

"Opie, put me down!" she snarled, squirming in his grasp.

They could both hear the murmurs and cursing from the dining room as Opie dragged them both out the door, letting the heavy oak close behind them. He walked them both to his bike, his own feelings conflicting and simmering in his veins.

"Opie, seriously, let me go," Shelby ordered, her fists pounding against his back.

He shook his head. "Not until I trust you to behave."

She rolled her eyes. "So, what? You gonna carry me home?"

Opie quietly growled, but took the time to settle her on her own two feet, using his body to block her from going back into the house and do anymore damage. "What the hell was that?" he asked, his arms crossed tight over his chest.

Shelby looked at him in disbelief. "_You _are mad at _me_ about this?" she asked.

He rubbed a hand over his face, staring down at his sister-in-law, her green eyes blazing, her face flushed. He'd be lying if he tried to say he wasn't affected by the scene between her and Gemma inside. He was a man… watching two strong women butt heads the way they had… any man would be turned on by that.

But this wasn't just another croweater or sweetbutt that Shelby was attempting to throw down with. This was _Gemma Teller-Morrow_. He knew that the woman made one hell of an enemy and having Gemma as an enemy ran the risk of being ran down by SAMCRO.

"What was I supposed to do, Op?" Shelby asked, her voice quiet. "Just let her steamroll me? Lay down and take it?" She felt the fight slowly draining out of her as Opie stared down at her, his face betraying nothing. She hadn't meant to let Gemma push her buttons, get under her skin. She knew she was making things harder for herself as well as Opie by speaking back, that it was smarter to let the woman play her game, simply say nothing.

But she was tired of the politics that went into SAMCRO, whether it be the members of the club or their old ladies. She'd been back only a matter of days and there was already this expectation that she was supposed to fall in line.

"You're not an old lady," he finally replied. "You aren't even a croweater."

Shelby raised an eyebrow. "Your point?"

He shook his head, rubbing his hand over the back of his neck. "I don't know how to protect you-"

She clapped a hand over his mouth. "How many times do I have to tell you that I don't need you to protect me?" she murmured, taking a step closer. "And I sure as hell don't need you to protect me from this."

Opie reached up, pulling her hand from his mouth and lacing their fingers. "You just attempted to go toe-to-toe with Gemma, Shel," he pointed out, his eyes travelling down her arm to stare at their hands. "Even I wouldn't attempt that." He moved his gaze back to her eyes, his other hand automatically coming to cup her cheek.

Shelby didn't reply, feeling as though she was frozen from Opie's stare. She swallowed audibly, her own eyes searching his face, unsure of what could possibly be said.

Slowly, Opie leaned forward, taking his time as he closed the distance between them. His eyes met hers one last time before he sealed his mouth over hers, his hand moving to tangle his fingers in her hair.


	17. R U Mine?

**Author's Note: **Oh, hi there... I know it has been eons since I posted. No excuses. Bad writer. Hopefully this doesn't become a habit. I was really jammed on this chapter. It just didn't work no matter how much I looked at it. Then, I had an epiphany and I managed to get inspired. Maybe it was because of the premiere this week, I dunno. Whatever it was, you're welcome, haha. Can I just say how much I miss Opie? I'm really curious, had he survived, if Jax would still be on this trajectory... the whole butterfly effect theory. Oh well, guess we'll never know...

As always, I want to thank everyone that has read/favorited/alerted/reviewed. I've gotten a lot of alerts and favorites in the past couple days, which was great, especially since I was so neglectful. Huge thank yous and kisses to **mypoeticdownfall**, **OntheWildside**, **mrsreedus69**, **ghostlylove**. Your reviews were so kind and I'm stoked that you seem to be enjoying this journey I'm taking them on. Or at least like enough to tell me what you think!

This is unbetaed... All mistakes are my own... I probably should have looked this over a little more, but I really just needed to post it since it's been forever.

**Disclaimer: **I have no claim to SOA, Opie, Tig, etc. Those rights belong to Kurt Sutter, Ryan Hurst, Kim Coates, etc. But thank you to them for bringing them to my life, ha. 'Madness' belongs to Muse, 'R U Mine?' is The Arctic Monkeys. All I can truly lay claim to is Shelby and Amber.

**'_Are you mine? (Are you mine tomorrow?) Are you mine? (Or just mine tonight?)"_**

As soon as Opie pulled into the lot of the clubhouse, Shelby swung a leg over, quickly getting off the bike, her hands moving to her chin to loosen the strap on the helmet. "Thanks for the ride," she told him, flashing him a smile. "I can get to Amber's from here."

He gave her a look, cocking his head to the side. He reached forward to grab her wrist, pulling her towards him. "You running from me?" he asked. His hand drifted down her side to cup her hip.

She swallowed and searched his face, his eyes obscured by his riding glasses. Her heart was pounding, his scent still in her nostrils. She could still feel the pressure of his lips against hers, his beard rubbing the skin of her chin in a way that sent waves straight to her core. She took a deep breath, her stomach doing a flip as he reached up, pulling his glasses from his eyes and tucking them in his cut. "No, I just-"

He cut her off, sealing his lips over hers again as he moved off his bike, towering over her. His hands drifted up her curves, his palms cradling her cheeks as she seemed to open to him, his tongue moving to sweep over the roof of her mouth.

Kissing Shelby was completely different from when he'd kissed Donna. With Donna, Opie had always been so careful with her, touching her as though she would break if he moved too hard, too fast. She always seemed so delicate to him, his beautiful, fragile wife. He'd made love to her slowly, trying to convey to her how much he loved her through his mouth, with his body… trying to make up for the fact that the rest of his life was so hard, so violent…

But with Shelby…

From the moment their lips had touched, Opie felt like he couldn't get close enough, like he wanted to pull her inside himself and keep her there. His hands clung to her, his fingers digging in, trying to hold her in place as though she would vanish if he let her go. Each kiss was harder than the last, one hand curling in her long, dark locks, his other arm wrapping around her waist, holding her body flush with his own.

He'd waited so long to have her flavor on his tongue, to travel the planes of her body with his hands, memorize her curves. Now that he'd gotten a taste… he never thought he'd could feel addicted to something so quickly. He didn't want to stop kissing her, stop touching her.

Shelby pulled back, her palms flat against his chest. She took a deep breath, letting her eyes flutter open. She couldn't help but pant, her heart skipping a beat as she met Opie's gaze. Her fingers curled against his leather and she was thankful his arms were wrapped around her. She was sure that her knees would buckle if she were expected to stand on her own. "What are you doing, Op?"

Her voice was barely a whisper, but he could hear the fear laced with the words as though she'd screamed the question. They'd gotten to this point before, staring in each other's eyes, about to take the next step… swollen lips, electricity between them…. But this time, Donna wouldn't appear, wouldn't be there to stop them.

Opie's arm tightened around her waist, pulling her impossibly closer. His eyes bored down into hers, his other hand moving to rest on her cheek. His thumb brushed her lush lower lip. "Something I should have done years ago," he finally replied.

The brunette swallowed, searching his face. "And what's that?" she asked, her stomach tight. "I need you to say it…"

He couldn't help the smile that pulled at his mouth. Shelby rarely allowed herself to be vulnerable like this, he knew that. "If you come inside with me… I'm going to fuck you," he promised, feeling the shiver that ran through her body. "I'm going to take my time with you, Shel. I have a hell of a lot of time to make up for." He moved his thumb to her chin, tilting her head back, his lips a breath from hers. "If you don't want that, say something now, because once we get inside, I'm not letting you go." He rested his forehead against hers. "You have to make the decision now, you can't change it later."

Shelby let out a soft whimper at the gleam in his eye, the hunger in his stare. Barely contained lust dripped from his words and it felt like her head was spinning.

"What do you want, Shelby?" Opie asked, his lips brushing over hers.

Her breath hitched and she could feel the swell of his cock hard between them. "You," she finally replied, her hand moving to the back of his neck. "It's always been you." She slammed her mouth to his, letting their tongues tangle as Opie practically carried her, blindly making his way to his room.

* * *

><p>Tig watched with narrowed eyes as Opie and Shelby disappeared into the clubhouse. The way they were clinging to each other, oblivious to their surroundings… it was clear that Opie had finally dropped his defenses.<p>

"Ya alright, brotha?"

Tig lifted his riding goggles and glanced over at Chibs, the Scot giving him a knowing glance. "I'm always good, Chibby," he replied, swinging a leg off his bike. A grin settled over his features as his gaze settled on a dark-haired croweater across the lot giving him bedroom eyes. "I'll be even better once I get my delayed welcome home present."

Chibs chuckled and dismounted his own ride, striding over to his Sergeant to close the gap. "Prospect, go handle tha bar," he called, dismissing Half Sack with a wave to give he and Tig a few moments of privacy.

The older man raised an eyebrow, glancing over at his counterpart. "Y'know, you're not really what I was thinking in terms of my gift," he remarked, leaning against his bike. "Don't get me wrong, I like foreign, but I prefer pussy over dick any day."

Chibs rolled his eyes and shook his head. "What's goin' on with ya and the girl, aye?"

Tig narrowed his eyes. "Gonna need you to be more specific," he replied, his voice low.

The Scot gave him a look. "I ain't stupid or blind, Tiggy," he warned. "Might not know what ya got goin' with the lass completely, but whatever it is?" He pulled the man closer. "Ya walkin' on thin ice with that one, yeah?"

Tig's mouth twitched. "No clue what you're talking about man."

"Only a matter a time before someone else picks up on the two of ya," Chibs continued. "Be in your best interest to stop it before Opie or Jackie Boy ends up being in on your little secret."

"You threatening me?"

Chibs only gave him a smile in return, making the scars on his cheeks seem even deeper. "Just some friendly advice, _brotha_," he replied, the final word dripping in sarcasm. "Take it or leave it, but don't say I didn't give ya some fair warnin'." He patted the older man on the shoulder before pulling a cigarette from his pocket and tucking it in the corner of his mouth, making his way across the lot.

Tig ground his teeth, watching the man go. He wasn't sure what pissed him off more… that he obviously wasn't hiding things well if someone like _Chibs_ was catching on or that the man in question felt comfortable enough to step to him about it.

He reached into his cut, pulling out his pack of cigarettes. As he slipped the cylinder between his lips, he contemplated the idea that obviously Opie was getting in on his sloppy seconds, even if the younger man wasn't aware. He couldn't help but wonder what excuses Shelby would make when her partner realized she had already been used for the night. He had been _inside her_, no rubber, and really, not much time had passed. The kid was many things, but he wasn't stupid. Oblivious maybe, but not stupid.

Tig lit his cigarette, his long legs taking him across the lot towards the crow that was still eyeing him. "You," he said, pointing his finger. "Let's go." He heard the click of her too high heels as she stumbled after him. He didn't wait, just shoved his way into the clubhouse.

"Hey, Tig, you want-"

"Busy, prospect," he snapped, reaching out and tucking the brunette under his arm. He moved like a man on mission, back towards the dorms, only half aware of the fact that his ears were tuned, hoping to catch the sound of a certain girl's moans before he shoved his partner into his room, slamming the door behind him.

* * *

><p>Shelby bit her lower lip, watching Opie watch her. Slowly, with shaky hands, she bunched the fabric of her skirt and pulled it over her head, leaving her in her bra and panties. She let the dress drop to floor, wrapping her arms around her stomach, suddenly feeling so much younger, almost as though this was her first time.<p>

The biker nearly groaned seeing her before him, only scraps of lace covering the parts of her he longed to see. His gaze travelled the path of her body and he felt a wash of anger at the sight of the faded bruising, the colors and wounds popping against the pale skin. He wanted to take the marks away, take the pain away. His eyes moved to meet hers and he felt the fury pass, almost losing himself in her stare. Carefully he slipped his cut off his shoulders, gently folding it and settling it on the dresser of his room. He grabbed the back of his henley and yanked it over his head, taking his undershirt with it. His arms crossed over his bare chest, pausing to let her take the lead.

The brunette swallowed before closing the space between them. She rested her hands on his chest, her fingers ghosting over his tattooed torso. She leaned forward, standing on tiptoe, and pressed her lips to the anarchy symbol below his collarbone, her hands gliding along the path of his arms.

Opie's eyes fluttered shut at her soft touch, his breath hitching as he felt her nip his skin, her tongue soothing the bite. One hand moved to the back of her head, his fingers curling in her hair, the other resting on her hip, his fingers digging into the skin. His mind was racing, his heart pounding as her mouth travelled down the length of his torso. Delicate hands moved to his belt, pulling the leather through the buckle. He swallowed audibly, his eyes opened half mast, meeting her gaze as she popped the button his jeans, letting the denim pool at his ankles. He stepped out of the pants, kicking them to the side, his eyes never leaving Shelby's.

Shelby bit her lower lip, letting her gaze travel over his form before her. She'd wanted to be with him for longer than she could remember. Her hands skimmed along his legs, her fingers hooking in the sides of his shorts. Slowly, she pulled them down, savoring the moment as more of him came into her view. Her eyes widened when she had the first glimpse of his cock, half-hard, a pearl at his tip.

"Holy shit," Opie gasped as her mouth closed around him. He wasn't one to sample from the array of croweaters that littered the clubhouse. Even before he'd lost her, he'd never cheated on Donna, never had a reason to. The handful of times that he and Donna had been on the outs, mostly during his time as a prospect, he'd had a handful of blowjobs, but nothing was worth losing his wife for. Since she'd died, he occasionally took care of himself if the need arose, but overall, Opie wasn't like his brothers. He had self-control. He preferred to share his bed with someone that meant something.

That just made Shelby's blowjob all the more sweet. Her mouth was hot and wet and perfect, her tongue swirling, her hand moving to his sac, giving a gentle tug. His hips snapped, trying to go deeper. One hand remained tangled in her hair, the other fist going to his mouth as he bit his own knuckles, trying to calm down, slow his release.

He tasted better than she'd even expected. Smoky… sweet… a tang of salt… His flavors rolled over her tongue as she moved her mouth up and down his dick, her lips stretching around his girth. His cock matched his physique, long and thick. She moved back, releasing him with a pop, her hand taking over.

Opie reached down, pulling Shelby to her feet and crushing his mouth to hers, groaning as he tasted himself on her tongue. As good as her mouth had felt, he needed to be inside her, hear what she sounded like when she came. He wrapped an arm around her waist, turning to sit her on the edge of the dresser. His mouth moved from hers, his lips brushing along her jaw.

Shelby tilted her hips closer, a quiet whimper escaping her throat as she felt his hand between her legs. His fingers moved beneath the fabric of her panties, the digits brushing over her clit. She could feel how wet she was and suddenly she recalled her time in the bathroom with Tig.

Opie felt her freeze, her body suddenly rigid. He pulled back, looking down at her with concern. "You okay?" he murmured, tucking a lock of hair behind her ear.

The brunette swallowed, her green eyes shining and locked on the hazel orbs staring back at her. "I'm…" She trailed off, feeling her cheeks burn.

Opie pressed a kiss to her temple. "What is it, Shel? Do you need me to stop?" The last thing he wanted was to let her go. Every fiber in his being was screaming to strip off her panties and impale her on his cock, but she was better than that. He wouldn't treat her like he had pulled her in from the main room of the clubhouse.

She took a deep breath, wrapping her arms around his shoulders, inching closer to the edge of the dresser, her ass perched on the lip of the wood. She pressed herself to Opie's naked body, feeling the way his heartbeat seemed to match her own, racing, deafening.

"Shelby?" he pressed again, holding her to him. He buried his face in her hair, savoring the scent of her shampoo.

Before she could reply, a muffled ringing came from the pile of denim where he had discarded his jeans.

"Shit," he muttered, pulling back. "I have to-"

"Get that," the brunette finished. "I know."

Opie crossed the room, swiping his jeans off the floor and pulling the phone from his pocket, lifting the burner to his ear. "Yeah?"

Shelby let her gaze travel Opie's back, admiring the patch tattoo that covered the expanse of skin, stopping only inches above his ass. He was solid, beautiful… more than she'd imagined. She swallowed, looking away as a wave of guilt crashed over her. She was lying to him about so much. Bryant… Tig… the past decade. He deserved so much better than what she was giving him, but she didn't know how to get past it. Maybe if it was only Bryant he would understand… but Tig?

"Now?"

Her eyes moved back as Opie snapped into the phone. She could see the rigid set of his broad shoulders. Her head tilted to the side, trying to understand what he was talking to the other person about.

"Yeah, I'll be there." He flipped the phone shut, turning to face Shelby as he snatched his shorts off the ground. His face was stone, processing. "Think we can take a raincheck?"

She swallowed, noting the cold tone of his voice, registering the way he was shutting down. She could feel her nerves seeming to spark, already frayed from everything that she was already going through. "Of course," she murmured, pushing herself off the dresser. "Everything okay?"

Opie cleared his throat, pulling his jeans up over his hips and tightening his belt. "They found him."

Shelby froze, her dress tight in her hands. "Who?" she breathed, her voice catching in her throat.

The coolness in his expression cracked just a fraction. "The son of a bitch that killed my wife."


	18. Don't Let Me Go

**Author's Note:** Oh, hey. Fancy meeting you here. Remember me? It's crazy how much life gets in the way. Writing time has been scarce and when I have opened up this chapter, it's been really difficult to get out, I'm not sure why. Oh well. Hopefully this works. No smut really (sadly), just plot advancement and some adult situations. I feel like I set up a bunch of things for this and then I got distracted by smuttiness (though, considering the players, can you blame me?). So this is supposed to work on advancing. Let's see how it works out, haha.

A huge thank you, hug, and cake to everyone who has taken the time to read/follow/favorite/review this story. Especially since updates are getting so sporadic. I know that can be a pain in the ass and make people lose interest, so if you're being patient and sticking with me, I appreciate it more than you know. The biggest thank yous ever to **mrsreedus69, OnTheWildside, ghostlylove, Haydendelioncourt, Myownlittleworld2788** for their wonderful reviews. I'm so glad that you took the time to let me know that you're enjoying this little journey.

Alright, enough babbling. You didn't come here for me.

This is unbetaed... All mistakes are my own.

**Disclaimer: **I have no claim to SOA, Opie, Tig, etc. Those rights belong to Kurt Sutter, Ryan Hurst, Kim Coates, etc. But thank you to them for bringing them to my life, ha. 'Madness' belongs to Muse, 'Don't Let Me Go' is RAIGN. All I can truly lay claim to is Shelby and Amber.

**"_Don't let me go… hold me in your beating heart… I won't let go…"_**

"C'mon, doll, gonna need you to work harder than that," Tig grunted, tilting his head back, his eyes squeezed shut.

The croweater on her knees in front of him began to suck his cock with even more intensity, her dark brown eyes wide and staring up at him. His palms were pressed over her ears, holding her head in place while he fucked her mouth with abandon. It felt good, his balls boiling, but he just couldn't seem to reach any sort of finale, that final explosion in sight, but just out of reach.

"How's that, baby?"

Tig's eyes opened and he glanced down at the purr, the eater looking up at him with lowered lashes, rubbing her lips over his tip. He scowled and pushed her away, making her yelp in surprise as she fell on her ass.

"Get outta here," he snarled, tucking his still painfully hard cock back into his jeans for the second time that evening, wincing as the cotton of his boxers moved against his flesh.

She swallowed, wiping her mouth on the back of my hand, smearing what was left of her lipstick and his pre-come across her cheek. "But I thought-"

He pinned her with a frightening glare. "You hard of hearing, sweetheart?" he snapped, reaching down and wrapping a hand around her bicep. "We're done." He shoved her out the door, slamming it shut behind her.

The Sergeant sniffed and shook a leg, giving his cock a squeeze and letting out a pained hiss. He'd been standing at attention since Opie had interrupted his time with Shelby and it didn't seem to want to go down. He rubbed a hand over his face and lowered himself to the mattress, the springs shrieking under his weight. He felt a wave of exhaustion roll over him but he couldn't imagine he'd manage to get any rest. Not with the way he was still so fucking _hard_. He felt like a damn VIAGRA commercial.

"If your erection lasts longer than four hours," he muttered, lying back on the bed, his eyes fixed on the ceiling. He shoved the jeans off his hips, kicking them to the floor. Tucking a hand under the elastic waistband, he hissed as he wrapped his fingers around his still moist prick, dragging his fist, using his other hand to push his boxers down. He let his eyes flutter shut, mentally flipping through his catalog of fantasies, rolling his sac in his hand.

His cock twitched in his grip as he thought back to his first encounter with Shelby. The blood, her whimpers...

"Fuck," he muttered, his hips arching. He recalled the way her throat had pulsed around the head of his cock, her choking moans…

"Yeah, that's it," he groaned. His hand moved faster, chasing after the memory.

"Tiggy, we got church!"

"God DAMMIT!" Tig nearly roared at the banging and the voice on the other side of his door. He shoved himself off the bed, not bothering to pull his boxers up as he crossed the room. He yanked open the door, fixing a murderous glare on the unfortunate Juice. "What the fuck are you yelling about?"

A look of fear flashed over the Puerto Rican's expression before he slapped a hand over his eyes. "Christ, can't you warn me before you flash your dick at me?"

The older man sneered. "What, you scared because it's bigger than yours?" He thrust his hips forward. "Jealous there, Juicy? Go ahead, you can touch it. See what a real man feels like."

Juice coughed and rolled his eyes up towards the ceiling as his face flushed. "Clay called church, wants us there in 10."

Tig grunted, tucking himself back into his boxers. He walked over to where his jeans lay in a ball, snatching them off the floor. "Emergency? What's so important that he'd call a meet after the fireworks that we had over at his place?"

Juice took a peek and let out a sigh of relief as his brother covered himself. "I guess he got a call from Trammell… got some intel on the Mayan that took out Donna."

Tig froze at the explanation, his shoulders stiff, his eyes wide. Why hadn't Clay called him first? Given him a heads up that this shit was going down tonight. He cleared his throat, giving Juice a nod. "I'll be out in a minute," he said, dismissing the Puerto Rican.

Juice nodded and walked off, pulling the door shut behind him.

Tig sat on the edge of the mattress, his jeans loose on his hips, still unbuttoned. He had to focus on breathing, still stunned by the news. He rubbed a hand over his face, letting out a deep exhale. He wasn't sure how to handle this. He'd anticipated being able to discuss what was going to go down with Clay a little more, but it seemed his President was keeping things close to the chest. Did Clay suddenly not trust him?

He shook his head. He was being paranoid. This whole thing was screwing with his head. Clay had been distracted and they were already running on borrowed time. They needed to get everything settled, give Opie someone to blame. There just hadn't been time, Clay needed to act, they both did. They didn't need to keep talking about it, they just needed to act.

Tig ran a hand through his hair before standing and buttoning his jeans, buckling his belt. He smoothed a hand over his leather before crossing the room and yanking the door open. He couldn't help the smirk that pulled at his mouth as the room across opened and Opie stormed out, Shelby lingering in the doorway. He waited as she watched Opie disappear down the hallway before her eyes travelled forward, blinking in surprise when she noticed him.

"You're looking a little frustrated there, doll," he commented, tucking a thumb in his belt loop.

The brunette's mouth twitched and her eyes narrowed. "I don't know what you're talking about," she rasped. She glanced back down the corridor. "Don't you have a table to go to?" she continued, stepping out into the hallway and pulling the door shut behind her, her hand staying on the knob as she pressed her back to the wood, attempting to keep her distance.

Tig chuckled, shutting the door to his own room. "On my way there now, sugar," he replied, closing the space between them. "Unless you wanna give me a reason-"

"Tiggy."

Shelby and Tig whipped their heads toward the voice and saw Chibs leaning against the wall, his arms crossed tightly over his chest. The Sergeant narrowed his eyes, his nostrils flaring. "You need something, _Chibby_?" he nearly snarled, aggravation coloring his tone.

The Scot shook his head, gesturing behind him. "Ya get the message? Table. Now."

Tig's mouth twitched. He gave Shelby one last look before stalking down the corridor, being sure to bump Chibs' shoulder on the way past.

Shelby swallowed and kept her eyes on the wall, waiting for Chibs to follow Tig's path. The Scot kept his gaze on her for several beats, slowly reaching to pull the sunglasses off the top of his head and tucking them in his cut. Finally, he gave her a nod and a knowing look before turning to make his own way towards the chapel.

The brunette let out a deep exhale, trying to calm her nerves. She sagged against the door behind her, squeezing her eyes shut.

* * *

><p>"Miguel Cabrera."<p>

Clay pushed the file towards the middle of the table. "Just got out of Stockton after serving time for attempted manslaughter. On good behavior." He eyed Opie carefully. "Week before Donna."

The younger biker's jaw set, his eyes glued to the manila folder beneath Clay's fingers. His stomach was rolling, realizing he was so close to the man that had taken his wife from his.

"How are we going to play this?" Jax asked, trying to pull the table's focus away from his best friend. His blood boiled as he tried to keep his emotions in check, knowing he was participating in this giant ruse, setting the scene to murder a man that was innocent of the crime.

The president pulled the file back, drumming his fingers on the table. He brought his other hand to his chin, rubbing it thoughtfully. "Gotta get him alone, take care of it."

Tig leaned forward, his hands clasped in front of him. "We got any idea of his habits? Usual haunts?"

Clay pointed a finger down the table. "Juicy is gettin' that for us. Anything?"

The Puerto Rican nodded. "He goes to see his kid in Stockton every week. Spends a couple hours there before headin' back to Oakland to check in with Alvarez."

Opie swallowed, his brow furrowing. "He has kids?" he muttered, Ellie and Kenny's faces flashing through his mind.

"Just the one," Juice continued, fidgeting with the pack of cigarettes in his hand. "She's living with the mom. He gets supervised visitation. Should be easy to get him on his ride back to Oakland."

"Rides on his own, I take it?" Chibs asked, resting his elbows on the table and leaning forward.

Jax shrugged, rolling a cigarette between his fingers. "Things have been quiet," he admitted. "Mayans are stayin' low-key. Wouldn't need to waste the manpower on a domestic visit."

Piney coughed from his end of the table, pulling the attention of the club. "How are we going to fix this?" he growled, cutting his eyes to his son. "This solution is more than due."

Clay nodded, folding his hands in front of him, a cigar between his first two fingers. "It's been agreed that Opie would take him out." He glanced at the younger man. "As long as you're still up for that. I'm sure we could get Tig or Hap-"

"This kill is _mine_," Opie snarled, his fist coming down on the table.

The president lifted his hands. "Understood, son," he agreed. "But you won't be going into this alone." He glanced around the table, his gaze lingering just a fraction longer on Tig to his right. "Tigger and Chibs, I want you on this with him."

"And me."

Tig felt his lip curl at Jax inserting himself into the situation. "The three of us should be able to handle this," he muttered, digging his fingers into the wood of the table.

A smirk played over the VP's lips, his eyes moving between Clay and Tig. "Strength in numbers, make sure this goes smoothly."

"I want Jax there," Opie agreed, his eyes fixed on the reaper in the center of the table. "If Chibs and Tig have to come with, fine, but I want Jax on this."

Clay grit his teeth, his jaw set, but he nodded in compliance. "Fine, Jax, Chibs, and Tig will go with Opie, take out the trash." He glanced at Juice. "Get them the exact day and trip Cabrera takes. No mistakes on this. I want it done before the end of the week."

* * *

><p>"You going to drink that or baby-sit it?"<p>

Shelby glanced to her right, raising an eyebrow as Tara slid onto the stool beside her. "Just pacing myself," she replied, her fingers loose on her filled shot glass.

The doctor nodded, giving Half-Sack a smile as he set a beer in front of her. "Long day?" she asked, lifting the long neck to her lips and taking a swallow.

The brunette sighed, tapping her fingers on the smudged glass. "They're all long," she admitted quietly. She chewed her lower lip, her mind racing.

The two women sat in silence, each nursing their drinks. Tara watched the younger girl from the corner of her eye, evaluating her.

"If you have something you want to say, you might as well just say it," Shelby muttered, lifting her shot and throwing it back.

Tara's pursed her lips, narrowing her eyes thoughtfully. "Quite a dinner," she murmured in reply.

Shelby rolled her eyes before cutting her gaze at the doctor. "You going to get on my case about it too?" she asked, pushing her empty glass to the edge of the bar, dragging her palm back across the wood.

Tara chuckled and shook her head. "More the opposite. Didn't realize that you felt that way about Gemma." She took another drink of her brew.

Shelby sighed and hitched her shoulder in a shrug. "She's just exhausting. How she doesn't tire herself out is beyond me."

"How so?" the other woman pressed. She lifted her palms in surrender when Shelby cut a look at her. "I'm not digging. We all know Lady Teller-Morrow is no fan of mine."

The younger girl sighed and rested her chin on her shoulders. "You ever feel like she is determined to make it that she's the only woman that takes care of these guys? The only one that can possibly make them happy?"

Tara couldn't help the snort that escaped. "You do know that I'm the one that's dated her son, right? Her precious baby boy?" She shook her head. "If anyone gets that, it's me."

Shelby chuckled. "You make a good point." She glanced at Tara. "I mean, I get her being that way with Jax but…" She trailed off, her eyes moving to the closed doors of the chapel.

The older brunette crossed her ankles and drained what was left of her drink. "Opie is her son's best friend," she pointed out.

Shelby furrowed her brow. "What's her excuse for the rest of them?" she muttered.

Tara opened her mouth to reply, her expression colored with confusion. Before she could say anything, the doors to the chapel opened and the club slowly made their way towards the bar.

"Well, hello there, darlin'," Jax drawled, pressing a kiss to Tara's mouth. "Thought I was meeting you at home?"

She shrugged and gave him a small smile. "Figured I'd wait for you," she replied, nipping at his lower lip and grinning at the soft growl that he gave her. "Thought you might wanna give me a ride?"

A grin spread over the blond's face as he wrapped an arm around her waist, pulling her from the stool. "Babe, I _always _wanna be givin' you a ride."

Tara's giggle turned into a shriek as her boyfriend threw her over his shoulder. "Jax!" she yelped as he carried her down the hall towards his dorm.

Shelby shook her head, but smiled as the two disappeared. She stared at her still empty shot glass, weighing the option of having another drink.

"Didn't think you'd still be here…"

She glanced over as Opie slid onto the stool that Tara had left vacant. "Do you want me to go?" she asked quietly, biting her lower lip.

He shook his head, giving Half-Sack a nod as a beer appeared in front of him. "Didn't say that," he replied. "Just figured it was getting late, you'd want to go home."

The brunette hitched a shoulder. "I don't really have a 'home' to go to, Op," she admitted. "And given what you said…"

Opie looked at her. "What did I say?"

Shelby looked around the bar, swallowing audibly. "About… Donna…"

His breath hitched, his fingers tightening around the bottle. "We're not talking about that, not here."

"Opie-"

His eyes flashed as he turned his angry gaze on her. "Not here, Shelby," he snapped. He pushed himself off the stool and away from the bar, his shoulders rigid and stiff as he stomped out into the night, the door swinging shut behind him. He felt like he couldn't breathe, like the world was closing in. He didn't know what to do, how to fix it.

Opie planted a hand on the side of the clubhouse, trying to catch his breath and swallow down the bile that was lodged in his throat. His knees felt weak and he wasn't sure how long he could stand, not when he felt like he was ripping apart at the seams.

"Opie?"

His breathing was so ragged it almost hurt as it tore from his throat. He knew Shelby was behind him and he tried to force himself to keep it together, but it was too much. His body shuddered as a gentle hand settled on his shoulder.

"Just breathe, Op… deep breaths, okay?"

Her voice was soft in his ear and he could feel the heat of her body behind him. His hand moved to clasp hers, using her as an anchor. "I can't…"

Shelby's heart hurt watching him as he fell apart. She wrapped her other arm around him, her palm flat on his waist under his cut. "I'm right here, baby," she whispered. "I've got you." She held him close.

"I miss her," the biker ground out. "I miss her so damn much." He squeezed his eyes shut, tears burning. It was all too much, now that he was so close to taking care of the man that had taken his wife away.

The brunette bit her lower lip, a lump forming in her throat. It always came back to her sister. "Me too," she murmured, her voice thick. "But she wouldn't want this for you, Opie…"

He took a deep inhale before letting it out, his heart rate slowing. He carefully stood to full height and turned to face Shelby, feeling as her hands moved to settle on his chest. "I know… she never wanted any of this…" He looked down meeting the liquid green of her eyes. "I'm sorry…"

She shrugged, moving to take a step back. "We all have a breaking point-"

"No," he cut her off, his hands grabbing hers to keep her close. He wasn't ready to let her go, lose their connection. "I'm sorry because I know that this isn't fair to you… but I need you, Shel." His hands slid up her arms, his hands cradling her cheeks, never losing contact.

Shelby swallowed, staring up into Opie's eyes as he pleaded with her. She knew that as much as she wanted him to need her, she didn't want it like this. He needed her because he wanted her to make him forget Donna. He didn't want _her_, he wanted Donna. As wrong as the meaning behind the words was, it didn't change the fact that Opie still wanted her in some capacity. "I'm not going anywhere, Opie," she murmured. "Whatever you need, I'm here."


	19. Retrograde

**Author's Note:** So, we've reached chapter 19. I'm going to be real... I didn't intend to necessarily 'stop' where I did... but I also wanted to give you readers a moment to process. What we have here is over 4.5K words and most of it is finally touching on who Shelby is and how we've gotten to this point. Could I keep going? Sure I could... but it would be SO MUCH PLOT and even _I'm_ exhausted. I hope you like Shelby, because you're getting a massive hit of her. I could keep talking but... nah... if you don't like this, either be patient or go elsewhere, right?

A huge thank you and smooch to everyone who has taken the time to read/follow/favorite/review this story. It means everything to know that people are sticking with me. The biggest thank yous and snuggles ever to **mrsreedus69, **Haydendelioncourt**, TorchwoodAngel2788, OnTheWildside, Sammibabyy, AislingIsobel** for their wonderful reviews and encouragement. Reviews are like crack and I appreciate you satisfying that fix.

Alright, enough babbling. You didn't come here for me.

This is unbetaed... All mistakes are my own.

**Disclaimer: **I have no claim to SOA, Opie, Tig, etc. Those rights belong to Kurt Sutter, Ryan Hurst, Kim Coates, etc. But thank you to them for bringing them to my life, ha. 'Madness' belongs to Muse, 'Retrograde' is James Blake. All I can truly lay claim to is Shelby and Amber.

*Flashbacks are in _italics_*

"_**Suddenly I'm hit… Is this darkness of the dawn? And your friends are gone… When your friends won't come… So show me where you fit… So show me where you fit..."**_

Opie pressed his palms together in front of his mouth, staring across the lot. He was just so _anxious_. He'd been waiting for this moment since he'd laid eyes on Donna's body... waiting for when he'd be able to repay the man for taking his wife away so brutally...

"You alright, brother?"

Opie glanced to the side as Jax pulled himself up on the picnic table beside him. The blond reached into his cut, drawing out a pack of cigarettes. He extended the pack and the larger man took one, giving him a nod of thanks. "Yeah, just wanting to get this done."

Jax lit both cylinders before he took a drag of his own, blowing the smoke to the side. "Yeah, I get it…" He flicked ash to the ground.

The two sat in comfortable silence, puffing away at their cylinders, seemingly lost in their own thoughts.

"You tell Shelby?" Jax finally asked, breaking the silence as he stared ahead.

Opie choked on a mouthful of smoke. "Tell her _what_?" he rasped, pounding a closed fist against his chest to clear his throat and catch his breath.

The blond gave him a look, tucking the cancer stick in the corner of his mouth, his tongue flicking at the end. He leaned back, his palms flat on the table behind him. "About all this shit."

Opie couldn't help the scowl that crossed his face at the veiled accusation "Why do you assume that I'd tell Shelby club shit?" He took a deep drag, trying to calm his nerves, his eyes fluttering closed.

"It's her sister, bro," Jax reasoned, rolling the cylinder between his lips. "It would make sense that you'd wanna tell her. Goes a little deeper than just the club, y'know?"

The taller man let out a sigh, his shoulders sagging as he opened his eyes. "I told her we found the guy, left out some key details." He took one last puff before flicking his smoke away, his eyes following the cherry as it landed on the concrete. "I'm guessing she can read between the lines, but she doesn't need to know that someone's going to die today." He rubbed a hand over his face as his stomach clenched with a combination of nerves and sadness.

The VP looked at his old friend and laid a hand on his shoulder. "You don't have to do this, brother," he told him softly. "Any of us… we'd handle it for you, keep your hands clean…"

Opie scoffed and turned to face the blond. "Yeah, I do," he replied. He pushed himself off the picnic table as Chibs and Tig walked out of the clubhouse. "It's the least I can do…"

Jax watched his friend walk towards the van at the edge of the lot. He pinched what was left of his cigarette between his fingers and took a deep drag. He let the cylinder tumble to the ground and crushed it under his heel as he blew the plume of smoke towards the sky. "For who though?" he muttered, taking off his hat and running a hand through his tangled blond locks.

"Jackie boy!" Chibs called from the driver's side of the van, slapping his palm against the side. "Let's go!"

The blond tucked his hat back on his head and jogged across the lot, ducking into the vehicle, pulling the door shut before the Scot peeled out of the lot.

* * *

><p>Shelby stood at the door, wringing her hands, her eyes on the knob. She weighed her options, wondering if she should just leave.<p>

"Well, well, the prodigal sister returns."

The brunette turned to see Amber making her way up the sidewalk, a bag of groceries on her hip. "Hey, girl-"

The blonde rolled her eyes, walking up her front steps, her keys tight in her hand as she shoved past her estranged friend. "Don't 'hey, girl' me," she snapped, unlocking the front door. "Not after you've been avoiding me for days."

Shelby frowned as her old friend walked into the house, letting the screen door slam behind her and leaving the brunette on the front stoop. "I'm sorry, Amb," she called. "It's just-"

"I'm not interested in your apologies or excuses, Shelby," the porn star interrupted as she disappeared into the kitchen. "You need to stop running away from things you don't want to deal with."

Shelby pinched the bridge of her nose. "I wasn't running away, I just had to figure things out…"

Amber reappeared empty handed, her arms crossed tightly over her chest. "I don't see what's so hard to figure out."

The brunette shook her head. "Can I come in so we can talk about this? Please?"

The blonde regarded her for several beats before finally rolling her eyes. "Whatever," she muttered, taking a seat in her worn recliner.

Shelby left out a sigh of relief and walked into the house. She could feel Amber's frustration and anger rolling off in waves as she moved towards the couch.

"Are you going to actually give me answers or is this going to just be you telling me you need more time?" Amber asked, her eyes narrowed.

Shelby rubbed her palms on her thighs, her eyes fixed on the carpet. "What do you wanna know?" she returned, chewing her lower lip.

The blonde fingered a stubborn blonde curl, eyeing her friend carefully. "I want to know whatever you're willing to tell me," she replied. "But like I told you the other day, I need you to tell me _something_."

The brunette swallowed, resting her elbows on her knees. She leaned forward, her hands loosely clasped as she attempted to gather her thoughts. She took a deep breath, trying to determine where to even start.

* * *

><p><em>Shelby took a deep breath, slipping into the back room of the church. She watched Opie for several moments as he pulled at his shirt and tugged at his hair, nervous ticks that she'd grown familiar with over the years. She stayed quiet, observing him as she leaned against the door.<em>

"_Opie…"_

_She watched as he glanced over his shoulder, giving her a shaky smile. "How do I look, Shel?" he asked, pulling at his sleeve before running a hand through his hair, grimacing as his fingers tangled in a knot._

_Shelby swallowed over the lump in her throat and forced a smile. "You look great," she rasped, her eyes moving to stare at the ground. She refused to look up, even as she heard him move closer, his scuffed dress shoes entering her line of vision. A finger moved under her chin, forcing her to look up and meet his concerned gaze._

"_What's wrong, Shelby?" he asked, his eyes searching her face. _

_She watched him for several beats before standing on tiptoe and pressing her lips to his. She felt him freeze as she kissed him, but she stayed, her lips against his. Slowly, she felt him thaw, his own mouth responding as his hands moved to cup her cheeks. He gently pushed her back, their faces only a breath apart. _

"_Shelby, what do you… what are you doing?" he asked, his voice seeming strangled._

"_Don't do it," she told him, her green eyes shining with tears._

_Opie's brow furrowed. "Don't do what?"_

_She shook her head, her fingers closing on his wrists, holding him in front of her. "Don't…" Her voice cracked as she tried to be sure she wouldn't lose her nerve. "Don't marry Donna…" _

_He took a sharp inhale, his eyes wide with surprise. "Shelby, what are you talking about?" _

_She could read the honest confusion in his gaze. She exhaled, trying to calm the butterflies in her stomach. "I'm in _love_ with you Op…" she told him, her fingers digging into his skin._

_The man looked like she'd sucker punched him. She didn't see how it could have been any sort of surprise. Donna had warned her to stay away from him… Jax and Tara always seemed to know… Hell, even Piney made comments. _

"_You messin' with me, Shel?" he finally asked, a smile pulling at his mouth. "Did Jax put you up to this or somethin'?"_

_She shook her head, pulling his hands back to press a kiss to his knuckles, her eyes never leaving his as a tear coursed down her cheek. "No, Opie… I'm in _love_ with _you_," she repeated, her voice firm. "I've always loved you. I can make you happy, happier than Donna…"_

_The look of amusement melted away and he shook his head. "Shelby, there's no way…" He trailed off, clearing his throat. "Donna's pregnant… I'm marrying Donna…" He cleared his throat again as he stumbled over the words. "You're just feeling lonely or something… you're not interested…" He chuckled, giving a shrug. "You ain't into me, Shelby."_

_She blinked, looking up at him, confusion coloring her own expression. Since she'd known what it was like to be attracted to the opposite sex, it had _always_ been Opie for her… How did he not realize that? She reached up, settling her hands on his cheeks, the stubble soft against her palms. "Leave Charming with me… start over with me… we belong together… you and me…" _

_Opie blinked, his lips parted in surprise. "Shelby-"_

_Before he could try to argue with her, she wrapped her arms around his neck, pulling his mouth back to hers. She could taste the salt of her tears in the kiss, but she didn't stop, her tongue slipping into his mouth. Slowly, his arms wrapped around her waist, pulling her closer. He kissed her back, his tongue moving with hers, swallowing the relieved sob that escaped her throat. She had waited so long… so, so long..._

"_What the hell!?"_

_Shelby felt herself thrown backward as Opie pushed her away. Donna stood in the doorway, her face flushed, her eyes flashing with fury as she glared at her sister. Her nostrils flared as she took steps across the room closing the distance._

"_Donna," Opie bit out, grabbing her arm to stop her._

_She spun on her heel, slapping her fiance across the face. "How long?" she snapped, her voice low, her eyes blazing._

"_It's not like that-"_

_Donna scoffed, shoving him. "Don't you fucking _dare_," she hissed. _

_Shelby watched, her mouth in a scowl, her eyes burning. "Leave him alone, Donna," she growled, her hands balled at her sides._

_The older Lerner sister slowly turned her head. "Always trying to take what's mine," she snarled, her shoulders set as she crossed the room, taking advantage of the inch she had in height. "When will you learn?"_

_Shelby grit her teeth, staring at her sister. "He doesn't _belong_ to you. He can make his own choice."_

_Donna laughed. "Suddenly you think he has to make a choice?" she retorted, backing her sister up against the wall. "I'm pregnant, it's our wedding day-" _

_The younger girl snorted, shoving Donna back. "It's _your_ wedding day," she countered. "Do you even KNOW the man you're marrying?" She shook her head. "Do you think he wants to be here, dressed in a fuckin' penguin suit in a _church_, for God's sake?"_

_Donna bared her teeth as she nearly snarled. "What, because you have some sort of schoolgirl crush on MY fiance, you think you get to just pretend like you know what he wants?" She laughed, the sound cruel. "You're pathetic," she spat. "Absolutely pathetic."_

_Shelby watched as Opie stepped forward, laying a hand on Donna's shoulder. "C'mon, Don, calm down… she's just a little confused is all." He turned his attention to Shelby. "Right, Shel? Just a misunderstanding?"_

_She swallowed, her vision blurring with tears_

_She glanced back at Opie. "Is there a choice here, Harry?"_

_Shelby watched as Opie swallowed. He took a step over, laying a hand on Donna's shoulder. "Donna, it was just a mistake, okay? We're getting married, everything's good here."_

_She felt like her world had suddenly shattered. "But-"_

_Donna gave her a triumphant smirk. "See?" she told her, taking a step back and slipping an arm around Opie's waist. "Now, you can leave."_

_Shelby shook her head. "No-"_

_Her sister narrowed her eyes. "I want you to _leave_. Leave Charming… if you come back…" She scoffed, letting her eyes move over her. "It would be best if you stayed gone. You're not wanted here. You're no longer welcome here." _

_Shelby gave one last pleading glance to Opie, ignoring the anger and hatred from Donna's stare. He looked back at her and she could see how torn he was. But he wouldn't turn on Donna… not now… not when she was carrying his child. She could see the apologies forming behind his eyes. She took a ragged breath, looking at her sister one last time. _

* * *

><p>"You never told me what happened," Amber admitted, bringing her friend back to the present.<p>

The brunette blew her bangs out of her eyes, her gaze fixed on a spot in the carpet. "He chose Donna… It wasn't shocking… looking back now, I know I blindsided him. I don't know if it would have made any difference if I'd told him how I'd felt sooner. I don't know how Opie didn't realize the depth of my feelings, but he didn't. I shouldn't have waited… maybe then things would have been different…"

Amber crossed her legs. "So, you just left?" she asked, tilting her head to the side.

Shelby shrugged. "I left the church… went home. When my parents came home, I saw it in their eyes. Donna had told them what happened, at least what she thought happened… I could see the disappointment in my mother's eyes, the disgust in my father's..." She let out a shaky breath. "That was the last time I saw them… I don't blame them, not really. Donna was their golden child. As for me… I was never what they wanted."

"So where did you go?"

The brunette let out a sigh. "At first, I just wandered. Luckily, I had a little bit of money, but it wasn't enough to start a life… and it wasn't like I had anyone I could ask for help. Anyone that had been halfway nice to me had a connection to someone that would have been glad to see me gone…" She wrapped her arms around her torso. "I was so scared. I'd never actually been on my own, not really. I mean, I was only 17 years old, it's not like I had much life experience. And really, growing up in Charming tends to be so idyllic… I didn't know what the 'real world' would be like." She took a deep breath, rubbing her hands over the back of her neck. "It's not like I really had a lot of options on where to go. I managed to make my way to border, right inside Nevada... I was in a diner, scrounging up what little change I had for a piece of toast and these two girls walked in… they were maybe… five years older than me? I recognized what they were immediately. They looked like the girls that would hang around Jax and Opie and the other guys at T-M. I overheard their conversation and realized that I wasn't too far from an MC clubhouse. They only gave the name of the town… Indian Hills… they didn't give the name of the MC, but it really didn't matter to me. The more I thought about it, the more sense it made… I figured that's what I could do, that's what I knew after spending so much time on the fringes of _SAMCRO_ because of Donna's relationship with Opie…"

"You were a virgin when you left home, weren't you?" Amber asked, interjecting. "Unless you never shared.."

Shelby shook her head, clasping her hands between her knees. "I was saving myself for Opie," she replied with a humorless chuckle. "It made sense at the time… Opie came into my life when I was 13, before I truly knew what being attracted to a boy was… and as time went on, he was all I saw, all I wanted. So, yes, I was a virgin…"

The blond chewed her lower lip. "You had to know what you were getting yourself into with that…"

Shelby brought her knees to her chin, wrapping her arms around her calves. "Of course I did… I may have been a bit naive, but I wasn't stupid." She brought her thumb to her mouth, chewing at her nail. "Sure, I tried to convince myself that maybe I could work for them in some other way… but…" She sighed, resting her cheek on her knee. "It really doesn't matter what I thought then…"

"Shel...'

The brunette shook her head. "If you want to know, you have to let me tell you," she muttered. She took a deep breath and continued. "I made my way to Indian Hills. Hitchhiked, walked… Finally, I made it to the clubhouse that the girls had talked about. I knew I was filthy and could only imagine how rough I looked after days on the road with little sleep and even less food. I stumbled in the door and I recognized the girl that approached me as one that had been at the diner. And after her, I met Jury, their president." A smile crossed the brunette's face. "Jury was wonderful. He was sweet and more of a father figure to me than my own father was… He brought me back and sat me down to find out what was going on… who I was..."

* * *

><p>"<em>And this is Jury."<em>

_She took in the 'President' patch on his chest before her eyes moved to his face. He was regarding her, curiosity coloring his expression._

"_Thank you, Tyra," he said to the blonde, dismissing her, his gaze never wavering from the brunette in front of him._

_Shelby swallowed nervously, waiting for him to break the silence and forcing herself to stay still. She gave him time to look her from head to toe, not leering, but evaluating._

"_What brings you to my club?" he finally asked, crossing his arms over his chest._

_She shrugged in response. "I had nowhere else to go," she replied quietly._

_He raised an eyebrow. "What made you come here?" he pushed. "Where are you from?"_

_She let out an exhale, giving him another shrug. "It seemed as good a place as any… I'm originally from California… I knew of an MC there… I know that you guys… you take care of people…" Her explanation was stilted, her nerves getting the better of her. _

"_A lot of MC's in California, darlin', and not too many of them are friends," the older man replied. "And what kinda 'takin' care of' are you referring?"_

_Shelby swallowed audibly. "I'm willing to do whatever you need… I just… I need a home…" she pleaded, her eyes shining with tears. _

_Jury shook his head. "None of that now," he reprimanded, reaching his hand forward to catch the tear that escaped. "Gonna need to be stronger than that if you wanna make it." He let his hand drop, continuing to regard her carefully. "What's your name?"_

"_Shelby."_

"_Shelby what?" he pressed. _

"_Lerner," she replied, shifting on her feet. _

"_How old are you?" He shook his head before she could answer. "Actually, don't answer that… better I don't know." A hand moved to his chin, his fingers stroking his goatee. "You're willing to do whatever we need around here, hmm?"_

_She nodded furiously. "Anything," she agreed, a note of desperation in her voice._

_He nodded towards the back. "Let's see how far that goes," he replied, gesturing towards the back of the clubhouse._

* * *

><p>"Did you sleep with him?"<p>

Shelby chuckled, shrugging her shoulders. "Of course, that's what I was there to do… be a distraction, a fixture." She ran a hand through her dark waves. "But Jury was gentle… sweet… understanding… He didn't push me beyond what I wanted to do and our sexual relationship didn't last all that long. Only long enough for him to let me know what those men could want, show me what I was capable of..." She blew a stubborn lock of hair from her eyes.

"So, it was like an audition?" Amber asked, pulling her own knee up to her chin.

Shelby couldn't help but scoff. "I guess you could say that, but do you really need to audition to be a sweetbutt?" She shrugged again. "You just gotta be willing to spread your legs, be a receptacle… sure it helps to be _good_, but it's really not everything…. not with men like that." She sighed.

"I'd been with the Tribe for a little over a year when they had a transfer… Bryant Wade… He'd been the Enforcer for the charter up in Portland… Decided he wanted a change of scenery, I guess. I heard about him… you couldn't be connected with the Tribe and _not _be aware of the legend that was Bryant Wade... He was handsome… a favorite of the girls… But not only that… he did his job and he did it _well_. He was always the man to go to with the 'hard' jobs, the messy jobs… His transfer party was downright legendary. As he settled in, it became a sort of competition to see who got to spend the night with Wade. But I never was really interested in playing. That wasn't why I was there. I was there to take care of all the members, not just one. If I took care of them, they took care of me. So, my path rarely crossed Bryant's… he tended to be preoccupied anyway."

"I guess after going through the stock, he set his sights on me. Maybe it was because I was a challenge. Maybe it was because I didn't try to get his attention. I don't know. But suddenly, I was the only sweetbutt he focused on, only one that he made an effort for. And he didn't treat me like a pass around or anything like that. He offered me things… gifts… money… Told me that he'd take care of me… I just had to let him..."

* * *

><p>"<em>Wade's staring at you again."<em>

_Shelby rolled her eyes as she threw back a shot. "I really wish he'd stop," she muttered, pouring another shot of vodka into her glass._

_Cherry gave her a skeptical look. "How do your clothes stay on when he's looking at you like that?"_

_Shelby glanced over her shoulder to see Bryant staring at her with hooded eyes, a toothpick in the corner of his mouth. He grinned when their eyes locked, reaching up to pull the wood from his teeth, bringing a bottle to his lips and taking a swallow. "Easy," she replied, turning back to her friend. "He does nothing for me."_

_Cherry scoffed, tilting her head to the side as she stole the shot, swallowing it quickly. "He does something for everyone," she retorted, looking over and letting her gaze move over the man. "Best lay in this club, I swear."_

_Shelby pulled herself onto a stool, crossing her legs. "I'll take your word for it."_

_Cherry opened her mouth to argue but was cut off as Needles slipped an arm around her shoulders. "I'm running low on booze, sugar," he purred, waving an empty bottle in front of her face. _

_A chuckle escaped the seated brunette as Cherry practically ran to get the man another beer. "You're mean," she murmured to the Vice President shaking her head as she spun the glass between her fingers. _

_The man chuckled, tucking a lock of hair behind her ear. "She just makes it so easy," he reasoned. "Tries so hard."_

"_They can't all be difficult like me," she teased, giving him a wink, letting her empty hand rest on his cut. _

_Needles grinned, planting a kiss on her mouth. "You're more than worth it, doll," he praised, taking a step back as Cherry held a beer out to him. He looked at the label before looking back at the girl in front of him. "Have you ever seen me drink light beer?" he snapped._

_Cherry's eyes widened as she ran to the back of the clubhouse again, the rejected brew tight in her fist._

"_Mean!" Shelby crowed with a giggle._

_Needles gave her a wink before following the path that Cherry had taken only moments before._

_Shelby shook her head, turning her body to the bar in front of her. She ran her thumb over the shot glass, catching a loose drop of liquor on the pad of the digit. She brought her hand to her mouth and ran her tongue over her thumb, shivering as the vodka hit her tastebuds._

"_Always such a tease."_

_The brunette glanced to her right at the sound of the voice beside her. She pursed her lips as Bryant leaned against the bar, his lips curled into a smirk. "How is me having a drink being a tease?" she countered, standing on her stool to look at the selection of liquor under the bar._

_Wade chuckled, blindly reaching over and grabbing a bottle of tequila, setting it in front of her, his eyes on the expanse of skin between where her shirt ended and her skirt began. "You breathe and it's teasin' me," he admitted._

_Shelby eyed the tequila with distaste. "You tryin' to tell me something, Mutton?" she asked, shifting her gaze back to him, an eyebrow arched._

_He grinned, grabbing the bottle and pouring her a generous shot. "What do you think?" he countered, lifting the glass between them._

_She took the shot, moving it from between them. "I'm thinking that you really need to realize I'm a lost cause here for you, baby," she told him, throwing back the liquor and wincing at the burn. "You can rent me for a ride, but I can't be bought to own."_

"_When are you going to admit that you want me, Shel?" he asked, moving closer to force her knees apart, his fingers pressing against her bare pussy beneath her skirt. They both let out a hiss as his digits slipped over her wet folds. "I mean, your cunt ain't lyin' to me, sugar."_

"_Just because I'm wet, that doesn't mean it's for you, sweetheart," she bit out, her breath hitching as the tip of his finger slid over her clit, her own fingers tight around the empty glass in front of her._

_Wade chuckled, pushing two digits into her, savoring the flush that rose to her cheeks. "You know, I could give you the fuckin' world, Shelby… once you stop pretending that you don't want this..."_

_She bit her lower lip, gasping as his other hand slid to the small of her back and pulled her forward, his fingers hooking inside her as they went deeper. "Not really…" She swallowed a moan as his thumb made circles on her clit. "I'm not 'old lady' material," she choked out, an icy heat moving over her body._

* * *

><p>"Don't get me wrong, it was <em>awfully <em>tempting. That's what a lot of the girls wanted. To be the focus of a member, especially an officer… and the fact that he was attractive to boot?" She shook her head and shrugged. "Really, I might as well have been Cinderella… it was a dream come true... But I was barely 20 at that point… I wasn't trying to be anyone's old lady, wasn't looking to settle down into anything. Especially when… if we're honest… my heart was never in Indian Hills."

"Opie?" The porn star asked, pushing herself up from her seat.

"Who else?" Shelby replied.

Amber shook her head. "You want a drink? I feel like the rest of this story needs a chaser…"

The brunette chuckled. "And we've really only just gotten to the good part…"


	20. The Troubles

**Author's Note:** Oh, hey... long time. Welcome to the continuation of Shelby history (hope you still care, ha). I really didn't expect this to get so long. It may not even be done... but I have to see how things develop and this seemed like an okay place to stop. But until then, here's a little more in the Shelby saga... hopefully soon I can return to the triangle (I miss the smut... I have to be honest...). Gotta take care of these loose ends first though! Also, I know SOA has ended, but I have no intention of abandoning this story or the fandom. I still have ideas and things I'd like to change when it comes to the story of these fellows!

As always, a huge thank you to everyone who has taken the time to read/follow/favorite/review this story especially since I'm doing what I always vowed I wouldn't and being terrible with updates. Biggest thank yous ever to **OnTheWildside, Sammibabyy, **TorchwoodAngel2788, **AislingIsobel **as well as the (2) **guest** reviewers for their wonderful reviews and encouragement. In response to the review regarding the idea of writing about Shelby's adventures as sweetbutt... it's definitely something to consider... I feel like I've touched on a lot of the important parts of her time in Indian Hills, but maybe a series of one-shots or something could happen... I do love writing the character of Shelby, so who knows?

Until next time... which if we're honest... it will probably be next year...

This is unbetaed... All mistakes are my own.

**Disclaimer: **I have no claim to SOA, Opie, Tig, etc. Those rights belong to Kurt Sutter, Ryan Hurst, Kim Coates, etc. But thank you to them for bringing them to my life, ha. 'Madness' belongs to Muse, 'The Troubles' is U2 feature Lykke Li. All I can truly lay claim to is Shelby and Amber.

*Flashbacks are in _italics_*

**'_I have a will for survival… so you can hurt me… then hurt me some more… I can live with denial… but you're not my troubles anymore...'_**

Amber's nails tapped against the frosted glass of her beer bottle. She watched as Shelby's own fingers absently picked at the label of her brew. "So… did you end up giving in?" she asked, breaking the silence.

The brunette's eyes flashed to meet hers as she contemplated the question. "Eventually I really had no other choice," she admitted with a shrug.

Amber arched a brow. "How's that?" she pressed, unconsciously leaning forward in her seat.

Shelby heaved a heavy sigh. "Bryant wasn't one to admit defeat. There was really only one option for how things would go for him… he always got what he wanted… one way or another…"

* * *

><p><em>Shelby settled her hands on Needles' shoulders, sliding her palms over his leather to wrap her arms loosely around his neck. "Why you sittin' over here all by yourself, honey?" she purred in his ear, nuzzling his temple.<em>

_Needles grew tense at the sound of her voice. "Just doin' some thinkin'," he replied, slipping out of his seat and out of her embrace. _

_The brunette raised an eyebrow at the VP's reaction. "Everything okay?" she asked, tilting her head to the side, a hand rested on her hip._

"_Everything's fine, sweetheart," he replied automatically before ducking out of the clubhouse._

_Shelby pursed her lips, confused. The entire club had been treating her as though she had come down with a case of the clap for the past month. She was getting antsy. Since she'd settled in Indian Hills, she'd had sex regularly, her bed rarely empty-_

"_You look frustrated, sugar…"_

_She glanced over her shoulder as Bryant slipped onto a stool behind her. Her eyes narrowed as he gave her a smug grin. "What do you want?" she snapped._

_The Enforcer chuckled, shaking his head. "Y'know, I would've thought Jury would have cured you of that smart mouth long before now," he admitted, resting an elbow on the bar._

"_This isn't a smart mouth, this is me wanting to know what you want," she pointed out, crossing her arms over her chest. _

_He regarded her for several beats, the tension between them heightening with his silent analysis, the air seeming to become electric. Slowly, he rose from his seat, his 6'4 frame dwarfing her as his blue-green orbs bored into hers. _

"_We've been through this," he finally replied, his voice low, almost a growl. _

_Shelby swallowed and a small shriek left her lips as his hands closed on her biceps, spinning to pin her against the bar. His body pressed against hers, holding her in place. "Mutton," she breathed, her breasts rising and falling with each breath._

_A smirk played over his lips. "I _hate _when you call me that," he told her, leaning in to nip at her ear._

_A shiver coursed through her body. "That's your name around here, isn't it?" she replied, her head tilting to the side to give him better access, her body aching to finally be touched as she arched towards him._

_He inhaled her scent, the tip of his nose travelling along her jawline. "Doesn't mean I like hearing you say it," he countered, brushing his mouth over hers, his tongue slipping out to taste her lush lower lip. _

_Shelby let out a whimper, her body sagging against the bar, only his frame managing to keep her on her feet. "Then what should I call you?" she whispered, her eyes slipping shut, her head tilting back._

_Bryant grinned, his hand moving up her arm before closing over her throat, tilting her chin even further back. "I think you'll figure it out, baby," he replied, his voice just as soft. "But I know what I'll call you…"_

_She swallowed, her eyes opening, the green irises dark with lust. "And what's that?"_

_His grin turned almost feral, his eyes flashing. "_Mine_," he snarled before his mouth captured hers._

* * *

><p>Shelby ran a hand over her face. "He made sure no one else would touch me… no one else felt like they could have me…" She shook her head. "Looking back, I know I should have picked up on it, realized the way he was isolating me… but I guess I just underestimated him…"<p>

Amber chewed her lower lip. "So then what? You became his 'old lady'...?"

The brunette scoffed. She lifted her beer to her mouth, draining what was left. "Like I said, he didn't leave me much of a choice. No one else would even look at me… if I wanted to stay connected with the Tribe, I had to do something… serve some sort of purpose." She settled her empty bottle on the side table. "I didn't let him brand me or anything, but he didn't need to. Me giving in was just a formality. Like I said, he'd already done the legwork, made sure that I was his and his alone."

She smoothed her palms on her thighs and pushed herself up from her seat, snagging the bottle. "Mind if I get another beer?" she asked, rubbing her free hand on the back of her neck.

Amber gestured towards the kitchen. "Please, _mi casa es su casa_."

The brunette nodded, padding towards the kitchen. She tossed the empty into the recycling container right inside the kitchen, before crossing the room, her feet scuffing against the linoleum. She stopped in front of the fridge, pinching the bridge of her nose. She had honestly hoped that after enough time, things could settle, that she could get past everything. She knew it was naive, not to mention dangerous, to try to act like it all hadn't happened, that she could actually move on without dealing with it, without talking about it to someone, but she just didn't want to have to live through it all again.

She shook her head, rubbing a hand over her face and pulled the fridge open, pulling out a beer. "You want or you good?" she called over her shoulder.

"I'm good, but don't leave me hanging! I wanna hear the rest of this!"

Shelby couldn't help but chuckle as she straightened up, twisting the top off her bottle and taking a long pull. She took a deep breath and walked back out to the living room. She could feel Amber watching her as she folded herself back in her chair, her beer tight in her fist.

"I'm going to be honest, I'm really not sure what you were so afraid to tell me," the blonde admitted, pulling her knees to her chin. "I mean, I'm sure there's more, but so far, I'm a little underwhelmed…"

The brunette pursed her lips, settling her chin on the top of her bottle. "Well, like you just said, there's still more," she pointed out, an air of annoyance in her tone.

Amber lifted her hands. "No need to get testy," she replied.

Shelby took a pull from her brew before settling it on the side table. She leaned forward, her hands clasped loosely between her knees, her feet flat on the floor. "So, Bryant and I made it 'official' not too long after that. It was a formality and a means of respect to announce it to the club as a whole, members and ladies alike…"

* * *

><p>"<em>I knew it!" Cherry squealed, tumbling off her stool and throwing her arms around Shelby's neck.<em>

_The brunette grunted, planting her feet to support their weight. "I'm not really sure why you're so excited about this," she muttered, patting her friend on the back. She realized that she had no other real choice in the situation, but she couldn't help but wish that she hadn't had to put her business across the table._

_Cherry pulled back, a grin stretched across her face. "You made it, Shel!" she reasoned, her hands holding the brunette's elbows. "You remind me that there's _hope_."_

_A sardonic smile pulled at Shelby's mouth. She'd almost forgotten. Most of the girls in the clubhouse wanted what she'd finally achieved. 'Old-Lady Status'... _

"_Shelby!"_

_Shelby glanced over her shoulder at Bryant's shout. He grinned at her, shaking an empty bottle in the air. "You want?" he hollered. _

_She shook her head, her eyes narrowing as Tyra pressed a fresh brew in his fist. "I'm good," she replied, turning back to Cherry who was looking at her in wonder. "What?" she asked, resisting the urge to snap._

"_You don't even have to get your own beers," she murmured, her eyes practically sparkling._

_Shelby forced a smile. "Yeah…" She eyed the exit across the bar. "I'll be back, I need some air." She didn't wait for a reply, pushing her way through the crowd. She could feel the eyes of different sweetbutts across the room, feel the mixture of envy and hostility in their gazes. She finally made it to the door, shoving her way to the evening chill. She wrapped her arms around her torso, sucking in a deep breath of fresh air, her heels clicking against the pavement as she crossed the dusty lot._

_She wasn't sure what she was doing, why it had gotten to this point. She couldn't explain why Bryant Wade wanted her, not when he had his pick of women the way he did. But for some reason, he'd picked her. She expected that he would have lost interest, moved on, but he'd stuck with it and now… _

"_You okay, darlin'?"_

_The brunette lifted her gaze to see Jury eyeing her, a note of concern in his expression as he rested against his bike. She forced a smile and shrugged, her hands stuffed into her pockets. "I'm alright," she replied. "Reason I shouldn't be?" _

_The president smoothed his hands over his denim vest, his fingers catching on his President patch. "Would've thought you'd be more excited about becoming an Old Lady," he reasoned, reaching into his cut and pulling out a pack of cigarettes. He withdrew one before extending the pack to her._

_Shelby bit her lower lip, extracting a cylinder, the crinkling of the plastic making her wince. "Who says I'm not excited?" she deadpanned, slipping the smoke in the corner of her mouth._

_The man chuckled, sparking his lighter and lifting it to the tip of her cigarette, his eyes on her as she inhaled, allowing the smoke to catch before lighting his own. "If you wanna be any sort of actress, you're not going to get very far with that act," he pointed out, exhaling a mouthful of smoke into the air._

_The brunette pursed her lips around her cigarette, taking a deep drag, savoring the way the nicotine seemed to flow through her bloodstream. "I just…" She lowered her gaze, tapping ash to the ground. "You don't want to hear about this," she muttered, running a hand through her blown out waves._

_Jury flicked his tongue over the butt of his smoke before withdrawing it from his mouth, resting his hand on his thigh, smoke curling towards the stars. "You could try me," he offered. "Ain't as old and dumb as I look," he joked. He pushed himself off the bike and gently wrapped an arm around her slender shoulders, tucking her to his side. _

_Shelby sighed, resting her head on Jury's chest, breathing in his comforting smell of denim, tobacco, and whiskey, a scent she had grown used to after so much time in Indian Hills._

* * *

><p>"I think Jury knew, even then…" Shelby trailed off, her fingers curling around her brew and lifting it to her mouth, taking a pull.<p>

Amber frowned. "Knew what exactly?"

The brunette sighed, squeezing her eyes shut. "That it was all just a _mistake… _a terrible, awful mistake…" She shook her head, clearing it. "Our first year together was fine. Typical of the MC life, I'd imagine… he went on runs, took care of me as he promised, with the understanding that I took care of him the way I was supposed to."

"Was he faithful?" the blonde asked, tilting her head to the side.

Shelby scoffed. "A faithful biker?" she retorted, scorn in her tone. "Do those really exist?" She shook her head. "He had enough sense to keep his straying out of Indian Hills… the typical 'what happens on a run, stays on a run' bullshit that these guys seem to hold to."

"That had to mean something…"

The brunette sighed, leaning back into the cushion. "We merely had an understanding… and you don't shit where you eat. If he would go through the stock at the clubhouse, it would pull me down, make it seem as though I couldn't keep my man happy on his own turf… Given his reputation, the vultures circled, waiting for their opening, but between our understanding of our relationship and my seniority in the 'sweetbutt' hierarchy, he knew better than to dip his wick around there." She pressed her palms together in front of her mouth, the tips of her fingers resting against her bottom lip. "It wasn't as though it was a love match or anything like that… at least not first."

"Then what was it?" Amber pressed. "I mean, there had to be some sort of feelings there for that much of an effort.

Shelby snorted, running her fingers through her hair. "Bryant was a conqueror… he was probably a Viking in his former life, raping and pillaging villages for sport." She shook her head. "Him wanting to be with me had nothing to do with me or feelings… it had to do with me being a challenge, something that he had to work for."

The blonde's brow furrowed. "Then why did he stay with you? After he'd gotten you, I mean."

Shelby sighed, resting her elbow on the arm of her chair, her cheek against her knuckles. "He may have been able to call me his 'old lady', but he knew he didn't 'have me'," she explained. "The sex was great, but that was about it… I was never in Indian Hills for any other reason except I had no other place to go-"

"Sounds lonely…"

"So, he knew the only way he would actually win is if he managed to break through, make me love him," she continued, ignoring the comment. "But that wasn't what I was looking for…"

"So what changed?" Amber asked. "You said 'at first', so obviously love or something like it came into play at some point… what changed?"

* * *

><p><em>The sound of the engine cutting off in the garage made her scowl. She glanced up at the clock above the stove, gritting her teeth when she read the time. He had promised he'd be home in time for dinner and for once she had actually believed him… but dinner had come and gone more than four hours ago...<em>

_Shelby let out a scoff, lifting her glass of ice and bourbon from the table, the cubes clinking together. As she pressed the rim to her lips, the back door swung open, Bryant's silhouette framed by the doorway. She let the liquor burn down her throat before slamming the crystal back down. "Bout time," she hissed, refusing to look at him._

_His footfalls were heavy on the linoleum as he entered the kitchen. He didn't reply as he walked through the darkened room. Shelby finally lifted her gaze, watching as he yanked open the fridge. Her bloodshot eyes widened as his face was illuminated by the light in the ice box. She took noted of the sadness weighing down his expression as he reached to grab a beer, straightening up and slamming the door shut._

_Slowly she lifted herself from her chair, her legs heavy and unsteady from the liquor she had consumed. She approached him carefully, her eyes still fixed on him as he took a swallow of his beer, barely seeming to taste it._

"_What's wrong?" she murmured. She stopped beside him, looking up at him._

_Bryant wiped his mouth on his sleeve, his gaze fixed on a magnet in the center of the freezer. "Pinky's dead."_

_Shelby froze as the words left his mouth. She'd known the runs were getting more and more dangerous, the Mayans attempting to encroach on Devil's Tribe territory, but she hadn't known it was getting so bloody… "I didn't know Pink was going on runs… not since Gretchen had the baby."_

_His mouth twitched before pulling down in a scowl, his focus still on the refrigerator. "Needed all hands on deck," he replied._

_The brunette swallowed, laying a gentle hand on his bicep. "What happened?" she asked, her voice soft._

_Bryant glanced at her before shaking his head and pulling away from her, leaving the kitchen. "You know I won't tell you that," he replied._

_Shelby frowned, following after him. "Wade, c'mon, talk to me…"_

_He scoffed, shrugging off his cut as he disappeared into their bedroom. He gently hung it on the bedpost before ripping his shirt over his head. "What do you care?" he snapped, tossing his shirt across the room. "You just want to see how you can spin it, blame me for all of it?"_

_She gave him a look of confusion, leaning her back against the wall. "Why are you trying to create an argument here? Pinky was my friend too-"_

_He cut her off as he stormed towards her, his expression murderous. "He was my _best friend_," he snarled, his fingers tight on her arms, boxing her in against the wall._

_Shelby's eyes were wide as she stared up at him, unsure of what he was going to do. They stared at each other for what seemed like hours. To her surprise, his body began to shake and a tear coursed down his cheek. _

"_He was my best friend…" he repeated, his voice strangled, weak. He squeezed his eyes shut, causing more tears to fall._

_The brunette wasn't sure what to think, was lost on what to do. Slowly she moved forward, wrapping her arms around him as he started to cry, his body wracking with sobs. When his weight became too much, she lowered them both to the floor, holding him tightly. She pressed her lips to his hair, running her fingers through the strands to soothe him. "It's okay, baby," she murmured. "It's going to be okay…"_

* * *

><p>"I'd never seen him break down like that… be so vulnerable…" Shelby wiped her eyes on the back of her hand, looking at the way her dark eye makeup smeared over her skin. "How could I not fall in love with that? He'd never needed me to be strong… until then… He needed me… or at least..." She shook her head, sliding to the edge of the seat and running her fingers through her hair and resting her elbows on her knees, her gaze fixed on the carpet.<p>

Amber watched her friend for several beats, watched as she tried to keep herself calm, keep herself under control. "You don't have to tell me anymore right now," she murmured, absently twirling a strand of her hair around her finger. "If it's too much-"

The brunette shrugged. "If I don't tell you everything now, I don't know when I'll be able to talk about it again," she admitted. She took a deep breath, pulling her hair away from her neck before letting the waves fall, cascading over her shoulders.

"He'd finally gotten what he wanted," she continued. "It took him a day or two to pick up on the the change between us… Pinky _had_ been his closest friend... losing him hurt… But then he noticed the way my touches lingered, my looks were softer. I wasn't fucking him anymore, I was 'making love', as cliche as it sounds." Shelby cleared her throat. "That was the true beginning for Bryant and me."

Amber pursed her lips, taking note of the way Shelby's tone changed, the way her eyes narrowed. She stayed quiet, waiting for her to continue.

"He hit me the first time about two weeks later," the brunette stated, her voice barely above a whisper. "It's like that quote from _Pretty Woman_… it was the perfect hit, right across the cheek, my eye feeling like it was about to explode…" She took a shaky breath, blinking back tears. "I don't even remember why it happened… not that it mattered…" She pressed the heel of her hand to her eye. "I don't know why I didn't walk out the second it happened…"

* * *

><p><em>She stared in the mirror, wincing as she pressed concealer to the bruising under her eye. She was sure she could make out the markings of the large palm against her cheek. She swallowed, blinking back a round of fresh tears, steeling herself as she reached for her powder brush, circling it over her face, watching as the marks slowly vanished under her care.<em>

"_Hey."_

_Shelby stiffened, her green eyes wide as she lifted her gaze, seeing Bryant's reflection in the mirror. He leaned against the doorway, his arms crossed over his chest. She swallowed audibly, the corners of her mouth lifting in a forced smile. The expression turned brittle as he moved into the room, stopping behind her, meeting her gaze in the mirror._

"_You aren't still upset about last night, are you?" he asked, his voice quiet. His hands moved to close on her shoulders. _

_She found she couldn't speak, a feeling so foreign to her. There was a pit in her stomach as she watched him, but she was frozen, unsure._

"_I shouldn't have…" He trailed off, leaning down to press his lips to her neck, his gaze never leaving hers. "It's only because I love you so much, you know that, don't you?"_

_A whimper escaped her throat as his arms wrapped around her, pressing her closer. _

"_Let me make it up to you, baby," he purred, his hands moving to the bottom of her dress, bunching the fabric as he dragged it up her thighs._

* * *

><p>Shelby chewed her lower lip. "It happened more and more," she murmured. "I'd set him off, he'd hit me, the next morning he'd be spouting empty promises and soft touches, telling me how sorry he was…" She sighed, catching a tear on the tip of her thumb.<p>

"Why did you stick around?" Amber asked, leaning forward and grabbing a loose bottle of nail polish off the corner of her coffee table, rolling it between her palms.

The brunette shrugged and exhaled, puffing her cheeks. "Where was I going to go?" she replied. "Who was going to help me?"

"Charming was always here," the porn star returned, examining the crimson liquid in the bottle. "You could have come home long before now."

Shelby sighed and pinched the bridge of her nose. "He would have never let me go," she whispered.

"So, again, what changed?"

Shelby caught her thumb between her teeth, ripping the nail from the digit. "My parents died a little over a year ago," she explained, her tongue catching a drop of blood from where the nail had been too close to the quick. "I got lucky, managed to find out when the funeral was. I figured I should go… it had been more than enough time for Donna to get past what I had done… and even so, I only planned on staying for the ceremony..." She sucked in a shaky breath. "I should have just left… let Bryant figure out I was gone on his own…"

* * *

><p><em>Shelby tucked her black dress into her suitcase, smoothing out a wrinkle. She heard the front door open as she closed the luggage, tugging at the zipper. <em>

"_Babe, where you at?"_

"_Upstairs." _

_She heard his heavy footfalls on the steps as he made his way to their bedroom. She didn't take the time to turn around, continuing to mentally check her list of what she would need._

"_What's all this?" _

_She glanced over her shoulder, forcing a smile when she saw the expression clouding Bryant's face. "I told you my parents' funeral is tomorrow," she explained, wrapping a hand around her bicep. _

"_So?" he asked. "You ain't seen or heard from them in how long?"_

_Shelby frowned and shook her head. "That's not the point, Wade," she replied. "They were my parents."_

_His eyes narrowed, moving between the suitcase on the bed and her. "So, what? You think you're just going to leave?"_

_She swallowed audibly, choosing her words carefully. "It's only a few days," she reasoned quietly. "I just… I wanna say goodbye…"_

_They stood, staring at each other on their sides of the room, only the sound of their heavy breathing filling the space between them._

* * *

><p>Shelby pressed her hands over her face, scrubbing her palms over her cheeks. "I don't even remember…" Her voice was thick and cut off as she tried to explain. "I never knew anything could hurt so bad… He just… he wouldn't stop… the next thing I knew… I was in the hospital. I was there for two weeks... surrounded by flowers… all from Bryant. I saw the way the doctors and the nurses looked at me, the way they talked to me. Just another biker whore, getting what she signed up for."<p>

"Why didn't you call me?" Amber asked, a pleading note to her voice. "I would have helped you, I would have gotten you out of there…"

The brunette gave her a sad smile. "Amber, I couldn't save myself, there was no way you would have been able to get me out of there…"

"Then how did you?"

* * *

><p><em>"Did you hear?"<em>

_Shelby looked up from the glass she was drying, an eyebrow arched. "I hear a lot of things," she retorted, setting the glass to the side and grabbing another from the wash bin under the bar. "Need you to be a bit more specific."_

_Cherry rested her elbows on the bar, leaning forward. "Jury called in another MC… apparently he wants to take care of the whole Mayan issue once and for all."_

_The brunette furrowed her brow. Bryant hadn't mentioned anything to her about another MC coming in. Not that he usually talked to her about such things, but she was surprised he hadn't voiced or displayed any sort of frustration that Jury didn't think they could handle their problems internally. "Any idea who?" she finally asked._

_Her friend shrugged, tapping her nails against the wood of the bartop. "I think they're from Cali," she replied. "Guess it's an old friend of his or something."_

_Shelby frowned, giving the bar one last swipe before tossing her rag to the side. "Any idea-"_

_Her question was cut off as Jury pushed open the door to the clubhouse, crossing over the threshold. "Ladies, get these boys a drink," he ordered._

_Shelby felt her stomach drop as a familiar head of blond followed after Jury, distracted by a liplock with a girl he had tight in his arm. "Shit," she muttered, her eyes darting around the clubhouse, looking for an escape._

_Cherry glanced at her, slightly confused. "You alright, Shel?"_

_Shelby shook her head. "I have to go," she replied, ducking down to grab her bag from under the bar. "Cover for me?"_

* * *

><p>"Jax?" Amber asked, tilting her head to the side.<p>

The brunette nodded, grabbing her beer and taking a swallow. "Jury had called in SAMCRO."

"Did you talk to him? Let him know you were there?" the blonde pressed.

Shelby scoffed. "I wasn't prepared for that," she argued. "I hadn't seen anyone from Charming for years and to come face to face with Opie's best friend after all that time? I wasn't anywhere near ready."

The porn star furrowed her brow. "If anyone could have helped you, I imagine Jax would have been the one for that. Or he would have at least gotten in touch with Opie-"

"And what would that have accomplished?" Shelby interjected. She rubbed her hands over the back of her neck, leaning forward to rest her elbows on her knees. "All it would have done is possibly started a war between Indian Hills and Redwood-"

"You're giving yourself an awful lot of credit," the blonde pointed out.

Shelby rolled her eyes. "Believe me, you don't know Bryant," she replied. "He doesn't stand for anyone playing with his toys, regardless of importance or worth."

Amber's mouth quirked. "So, you're considered a 'toy'?" she asked, lifting her fingers in air quotes.

The brunette raised an eyebrow. "Aren't that what most of us are considered?" She shook her head. "Anyway… I may not have approached Jax, but that was a wake up call for me…"

"Wake up call? How so?"

Shelby sighed. "That something else was out there… that this was a sign that I could escape the cycle I'd fallen into…"

* * *

><p>"<em>Been lookin' for you, darlin'..."<em>

_Shelby lifted her gaze from her book and gave Jury a cautious smile. "Just catching up on some light reading," she replied, lifting the paperback._

_The older man reached forward and took the book from her grasp, his eyes scanning the cover. "A little Gatsby, huh?" he asked, lifting his gaze to give her a smile._

_The brunette shrugged, crossing her legs at the knee as she took the book back and rested it on the table beside her. "What can I say? Guess I can relate to good old Jay." She leaned back, her palms flat on the mattress. "So, what can I do ya for, prez?" she asked, tilting her head to the side._

_Jury sat beside her, resting his elbows on his knees. "Couldn't help but notice you left Cherry to handle my guests earlier," he told her. "Wondered what that was about, not like you."_

_Shelby's mouth twitched, her gaze fixed on the floor. She contemplated what to say, how to reply. "You know how Bryant gets," she finally replied, her voice soft. "Didn't want to risk it…"_

_He laid a gentle hand on her knee, giving it a squeeze. "Feel like you're not telling me everything," he pressed. "Don't think Wade has anything to do with you ducking out." _

_She chewed her lower lip, her vision blurring. Her fingers dug into the comforter and she sniffled, shaking her head. "Maybe, but it's nothing you need to worry about," she murmured._

_Jury opened his mouth to reply, but was cut off by a knock on the doorframe. They both glanced up to see Needles. "Table?" the President inquired._

_His VP nodded, his gaze shifting between his superior and the girl beside him. "'less you want me to hold them off a little longer," he offered. "But Clay's getting a little restless-"_

_Jury shook his head, giving Shelby's knee another squeeze before pushing himself off the bed. "Nah, I'm comin'," he replied. "Might as well get all this over with." He glanced back at Shelby. "We'll finish this later, alright?"_

_She cleared her throat and nodded. "Of course." She watched him as he walked towards the door. "Is everything okay?"_

_He exchanged a look with Needles before looking back one last time. "Just about to have some changes, but nothing you need to worry about, sweetheart." He tapped the door frame on his way out, the two disappearing down the hallway._

* * *

><p>"Next I heard, the Tribe had been 'patched over' and a new charter for the Sons was born," Shelby explained. "Like Jury had said, changes were happening, but he was mistaken when he tried to act like it wouldn't affect the rest of us… especially the handful of old ladies whose men weren't too happy with the change…"<p>

* * *

><p><em>Shelby looked up from the spot she was wiping down behind the bar as the doors of the chapel were thrown open. Denim cuts were thrown to the side and she watched as Hurly, Quest, and Geo stormed out of the clubhouse. Her breath hitched as Bryant was the last to leave the room before the doors slammed shut behind him. She pressed her lips together as she noted the set of his shoulders and the fury brewing behind his expression. She swallowed when his gaze settled on her and he stalked across the room, only the bar between them.<em>

"_We're going home," he told her, his voice barely more than a growl._

_She took a deep breath and shook her head. "I told Cherry that I would help her out-"_

_His hand moved across the bar, his fingers circling her wrist and she gasped at the flash of pain that shot up her arm at the tight hold. "You don't have a place here, not anymore," he snarled. _

"_What are you talking about?" she replied, her voice thick as she tried to stay composed. _

"'_less you're changing your mind, I'd get the hell out of here."_

_Bryant and Shelby glanced toward the voice as the SAMCRO president approached the bar. The former Devil's Tribe member gave his girlfriend's wrist one last squeeze, making her cry out, before shoving her back and stalking out of the clubhouse. Shelby let out a shaky breath, cradling her hand to her chest. She moved her eyes to the older man across the bar. "Thank you," she muttered, reaching beneath and pulling up a bottle with her good hand, settling it in front of him._

_He gave her a grin that made her uneasy. "Nothin' to thank me for, sweetheart, just needed a drink." He removed the cap and took a pull from his brew. "But if you must, just keep these comin'."_

_Shelby nodded as he shoved himself away from the bar, watching as the men in leather cuts poured into the main room, migrating to the available women sprinkled around or moving towards the bar._

"_PATCH OVER PARTY!"_

* * *

><p>"After that, I knew it was only a matter of time," Shelby explained. "Without a club, Bryant didn't have the power that he once had, I just needed to find my chance… and the fact that SAMCRO was the one that had given it to me… I just had to wait…"<p>

"For what?"

A smile pulled at the brunette's mouth. "To come home…"

* * *

><p>"You can stop looking at me," Tig muttered, rubbing his palms on his thighs as he stared out the passenger window. He watched Jax and Opie disappear around the side of the house.<p>

Chibs let out a huff, lifting a finger to pull his shades down his nose. "Ya think any 'bout what I told ya?" the Scot asked, a smoldering cigarette dangling from his lips.

The older man scoffed. "And what pearls of wisdom might you be referring to, Chibby?" He turned his head, an eyebrow arched behind his own dark lenses.

The Scot rolled his eyes, checking his watch. "Don't play dumb with me, brotha," he replied, leaning back in his seat, his gaze lasered in on the house across the road. "Ya need to be leavin' that girl alone before ya get yourselves caught-"

Tig narrowed his eyes. "What do you care what I do, _Scottie_?" he hissed. "And what do you even know?"

"Tig, me boy, ya ain't one for the subtlety," he pointed out. He took a deep drag, exhaling the smoke in his companion's face. "Only a matter of time 'fore you're goin' ta be answerin' questions you may not be wantin' ta face."

The older man grit his teeth, turning back to stare out the window, waiting for Jax and Opie's next move in their plan. Deep down, he knew Chibs was right, even if he would never admit it, but he was never one to accept any sort of defeat or retreat. He saw his actions through to the end, no matter how unwise. For now, that was how he was compartmentalizing his relationship with Shelby.

The two men sat in silence, their eyes on the house, waiting for the next step in their plan. Tig's fingers dug into his knee, trying to stay patient. He was never one for stakeouts. He was a man of action, always ready to be on the move. He figured that's what made him so good in the position of Sergeant At Arms.

But he understood why he couldn't run any sort of point on this. Not if he and Clay wanted to stay clean, stay clear of any sort of suspicion. It was bad enough that Jax seemed to think he had the right answers, they couldn't afford the ripple effect that would come with Opie being made aware that they were all chasing their tails, bringing retribution down on a man that had nothing to do with the crime.

"Why are you so concerned?" Tig finally asked, cutting his eyes towards the driver.

Chibs raised an eyebrow, pushing his sunglasses up into his hair. "What are ya sayin'?"

"You keep pushin' me about this shit with Opie's girl," he replied, his lip curling slightly at the stated ownership. "Ain't like you got a horse in this race, ain't like you think I'm fuckin' around with Tara or somethin'. I'm just wonderin' why you think you should be buttin' into my business."

The Scot sighed, leaning forward, his forearms draped over the steering wheel. "We all know what happens when we start infringin' on shite that ain't ours," he explained. "And Opie's been through enough without ya pissin' all over his toys. I'm just doin' what I can ta keep us whole."

The older man opened his mouth to retort, but he couldn't bring himself to utter a half-hearted argument. Deep down, he know Chibs was right. He couldn't be sure how Opie would react to knowing that he had been dipping his cock into Shelby, but given that the kid was already fragile after Donna, Tig was pretty sure that it could form a divide in the club that would be irreparable.

"Ain't nothin' for you to be concerned about, Chibby," he finally replied, clapping a hand on the man's shoulder. "I've just been making sure that she isn't hanging around for nefarious purposes."

Chibs let out a scoff. "'Nefarious purposes'?" he mocked. "Ya been readin' up in the thesaurus, Tiggy?"

Tig opened his mouth to reply, but was cut off as the van door was pulled open and Opie and Jax jumped in. He glanced over his shoulder as Jax pushed his hood off his head. "Anything?"

The blond shifted, giving a nod. "He's about to head out, sayin' good-bye to his kid now. We should be able to cut him off at the halfway point, take him down an alley." He looked at Opie. "You still good?"

His friend nodded, checking his piece. "Just wanna get this done," he admitted, moving to his knees.

Chibs pushed his glasses up his nose, turning the ignition. "That him?" he asked, gesturing to the Hispanic man pushing his way out of the house, throwing a leg over the bike in the side lot.

"One and only," Jax confirmed, his eyes bouncing between Cabrera, Tig, and Opie.

Chibs moved the vehicle into gear as Cabrera pulled onto the road. "Let's get this done, boys," he muttered, waiting several car lengths before tailing the man.


	21. Haunted

**Author's Note:** Yeah... so it's been like four months. I'm so sorry... I had a mean case of writer's block and just this whole thing called life. But no excuses. At least this means I didn't abandon! I hope that my writer's block takes a break because I've really missed these three. I don't really have all that much to say, so let me just thank all of you that are sticking with me and big thanks to those of you that reviewed/followed/favorited/just plain read this. It means the world. Big ups to **TorchwoodAngel2788, ****OnTheWildside, ****Sammibabyy, AislingIsobel, **and Guest. Your reviews are everything.

I do wish this was a bit longer, but once I got to the end and tried another scene, it just felt forced... So, until next time (which is hopefully soon... encourage the muse!).

This is unbetaed... All mistakes are my own.

**Disclaimer: **I have no claim to SOA, Opie, Tig, etc. Those rights belong to Kurt Sutter, Ryan Hurst, Kim Coates, etc. But thank you to them for bringing them to my life, ha. 'Madness' belongs to Muse, 'Haunted' is Beyonce (I prefer her Fifty Shades version, but either works). All I can truly lay claim to is Shelby and Amber.

'_**It's what you do… it's what you see… I know if I'm haunting you, you must be haunting me...'**_

"Why'd you do it!?"

"Do what, _ese_, I already told you I don't-"

Cabrera's protests were cut short as Opie's fist made contact with the man's cheek, the sound of knuckles on flesh echoing through the shadowed alley, followed by the cracking of his bone. Jax and Chibs stood back as Tig held the man in place, watching the scene unfold.

"Brother, just finish it," Jax pleaded, his arms crossed tight over his chest.

The taller man didn't even flinch, his fists continuing to rain down on the defenseless Mayan. "No, he needs to admit what he did," he snarled, hauling the man to his feet to move his assault to his torso.

"Jackie," Chibs muttered, his eyes fixed on the Opie's back. "We're goin' ta need ta rein him in if he goes on much longer…"

The blonde rubbed a hand over his face, shaking his head. "You think I don't know that?" he replied, glancing at the Scot before returning his focus to his best friend. "I just know he needs this…"

Chibs nodded. "Aye, but this is supposed ta be an easy retaliation-"

Jax snorted, cutting his brother off. "Ain't nothing easy about this," he interjected. His eyes moved to Tig and narrowed as the man avoided his gaze.

The Sergeant tightened his grip on their victim, letting Opie work out his frustrations. He was becoming impatient, knowing the longer they let their brother work this out, the more of a risk there would be for himself and Clay. He could feel Jax's gaze, forcing himself to ignore his stare, keeping his focus on Opie.

Jax finally surged forward, wrapping an arm around his friend's torso and pulling him back.

"Let me go!" the taller man snarled, trying to break the blond's hold.

The VP only tightened his grip. "You need to take him out, Op, that's what we agreed to."

As Jax forced Opie out of earshot with Chibs on their heels, Tig moved to press Cabrera to the building behind him, letting the man fall to the ground, groaning in pain from his assault.

"I swear, I don't know what the hell he's talking about," the Mayan explained. "We've been good with you white boys-"

Tig gave him a swift kick in the ribs, glancing over his shoulder to ensure that his three brothers were occupied before squatting to be eye level with Cabrera. He pulled out his gun, pressing it to the man's cheek. "Sorry, _mano_, but this has to be done…"

"No, you don't-"

His pleas morphed into a pained scream as Tig pulled the trigger, the force of the shot ripping through his cheek, shattering his jaw.

The other three men came running back, their eyes wide. "What the fuck happened?" Jax spat, taking in the scene.

Tig pulled himself to his feet, slipping his gun back in its holster and running a hand through his curls. "Couldn't be helped, he was trying to get away." His gaze shifted to Opie. "I'm sorry, brother, but he admitted it," he lied. "Said they meant to get you, was your truck, but…" He trailed off with a shrug.

Jax's jaw unhinged, sure of the blatant lie leaving the Sergeant's mouth. He kept his lips tight, refusing to let his best friend see his disbelief.

Opie's own jaw set, his eyes flashing to the man bleeding at their feet. He finally pulled out his gun, immediately firing three consecutive shots… one in the man's groin, one in his chest, and a final bullet between his eyes. He slowly lowered his weapon to his hip, watching as Donna's killer fell to the ground, dark blood pooling beneath him. His breathing was heavy, his shoulders rising and falling with each inhale and exhale. His heart was pounding in his ears and he was sure he could feel the blood burning and coursing through his veins.

A slow clap sounded further up the alley, making the four men quickly stand at attention, all weapons drawn, their bodies rigid… ready...

"Whoa, whoa," the silhouette called, lifting his hands in the air. "Just appreciating your handiwork, we're all friends here."

Jax's eyes narrowed as he took point, his finger tight on the trigger, ready to strike. "Come out," he called. "Slowly. And keep your hands where we can see 'em."

The figure snickered, but did as he was told, slowly moving from the shadows. Tig's eyes narrowed, his finger flexing over the trigger as the blond man came closer, trying to place why he looked so familiar.

Without moving his eyes off the intruder, Jax nodded his head at Chibs. "Check him."

The Scot nodded and approached the man carefully, tucking his gun into the back of his jeans. "Ya carryin'?" he snarled, moving to pat the man down.

The stranger chuckled. "Ain't stupid, friend," he replied. He pointed to his hip, his hands still in the air. "Just my one piece though."

Chibs continued his check, pulling the gun from the man's jeans and reaching it back. Tig took the offered weapon, but didn't lower his own gun.

Finally, the Scot stepped back and gave his VP a nod. "He's clean," he confirmed.

"Think I can put my hands down now?" the stranger asked, letting his gaze travel over the four men.

Slowly, the other three men put their own weapons away. "What do you want?" Jax asked, his voice barely more than a growl.

A smirk played over the other man's lips as he crossed his arms over his chest. "Just happened to be in the area, thought I'd see how the Redwood charter handles their problems."

Tig scoffed. "In the area? What does that mean?"

The man shrugged. "I'm looking for something. Think I may have lost it around here."

Opie scowled, watching the man carefully. "Who are you?"

The stranger's eyes flashed to the tallest son, letting his gaze roll over him. "My friends call me 'Mutton'," he replied, a grin pulling at his mouth.

"You insinuating we're friends?" Jax asked, cocking his head to the side.

Mutton's focus switched back to the young blond. "Can never have enough friends," he pointed out, running a hand through his hair.

Tig's mouth twitched, his nostrils flared. His hands rested on his now holstered weapon, but he could feel the way his fingers were itching to pull the trigger. He wasn't sure where that agitation stemmed from, but he didn't like the looks of the man across from him. There was just something about him that he couldn't quite place…

Opie could feel the way adrenaline continued to course through his bloodstream. He couldn't seem to stay still, feeling the way his fingers shook at his sides. He needed to get out of there… he couldn't stay, he needed to find his footing.

"There something you need or we just talking?" Jax snapped, his shoulders set.

The stranger smirked, giving a shrug as he shoved his hands in his pockets. "Don't let me keep you if you have places to be…"

Chibs jaw jumped as he kept his focus on the intruder. "We should be gettin' back," he muttered, his eyes never leaving his target. "Let Clay know it's done."

The VP slid his gaze between the four men, taking the time to analyze them before giving a quick nod of agreement.

Mutton lifted his hands in surrender and slowly started to walk backwards. "Don't worry," he soothed. "This will be our little secret…"

Tig's fingers flexed at his hip. "You talk," he warned, his voice barely above a growl.

The blond grinned and gave a nod of understanding. "Be seeing you," he replied before disappearing into the shadows of the alley.

* * *

><p>Shelby gnawed on her thumbnail, her eyes staring at the crack in the sidewalk in front of her. She couldn't believe she'd told Amber. She'd hoped it would help, give her a sense of relief… but all she felt was dread. She knew it wasn't over… Charming wasn't nearly far enough… but where else could she go? Where on earth could she possibly be safe?<p>

"Shelby?"

The brunette's body jerked and her head snapped up to see Opie standing before her, the light of his garage shining behind him, almost seeming to frame him in a halo. She jumped to her feet, smoothing her palms over her thighs. "Hey," she murmured, her voice cracking on the syllable. She cleared her throat, her hands fisting at her sides. "Hey," she repeated, her voice stronger.

He stepped forward, moving closer. He was regarding her carefully, confusion clear in his expression. "What are you doing here?" he asked, stopping an arm's length away. "How long have you been here?"

Shelby licked her lips, snagging the lower with her teeth. "I just…" She trailed off, lifting her shoulders in a shrug. "I needed to see you," she told him, her voice barely audible. She lifted her gaze, her eyes moving over him. Her eyes widened and she stepped forward, her fingers brushing over his shirt beneath his cut. "Opie-"

He grabbed her wrist, stopping her from touching him before glancing down, noticing the stain of blood smeared over his shirt. "It's not mine," he muttered, shaking his head.

Shelby swallowed, her eyes fixed on the stain. She wasn't sure what to say, but she knew what the blood meant, where he'd been.

Opie's fingers flexed around her wrist. He watched her watching him, trying to read what she was thinking, what she was going to do.

The brunette felt the sting of tears, the crimson spot blurring in front of her. Slowly, she lifted her gaze, meeting Opie's cautious stare. "It's…" She cleared her throat, trying to swallow the lump that was lodged. "It's done?" she whispered.

He didn't immediately reply as he loosened his fingers, his palm gently sliding up the path of her arm before resting on her cheek. He felt the splash of a tear on his skin as he lightly dragged the pad of his thumb over her cheekbone. "It's done," he finally replied, his voice just as soft.

Shelby couldn't help the sob that escaped her throat as her hand moved to her mouth, trying to smother the sound. Her body shuddered as she pictured Opie standing over a faceless corpse before the scene morphed into the face of her late sister glaring at her, Opie behind her shoulder. She felt her knees go weak, threatening to buckle beneath her.

The biker's own eyes widened, shocked by the visceral reaction in front of him. He wasn't sure what he'd expected, especially given that he hadn't even been sure that he was going to tell her anything relating to what had happened to Donna's killer. It wasn't necessary to drag her into the fray and he'd intended to keep her separate, move on without her being the wiser. When he realized that she was about to collapse in front of him, both physically and emotionally, he wrapped his arms around her, pulling her close. "It's okay," he murmured, his fingers tangling in her hair, his palm holding her head against his chest.

The brunette's hands curled in his leather, her face pressed to his chest as tears flowed from her eyes. Her body wracked with sobs, the emotions and pain that she'd been holding in for years, maybe even since the day she'd left Charming. Tears for her sister, tears for her parents, tears for Opie… even tears for the life she'd left behind.

* * *

><p>Tig threw the door open, his form filling the doorway. "Juice!"<p>

The Puerto Rican nearly fell off the bed, the bottle blonde beneath him letting out a shriek and scrambling to grab the sheet to cover herself.

"Oh, don't worry, sweetheart, ain't like I haven't seen it before," Tig soothed, giving her a leer.

Juice snatched his boxer briefs off the floor, yanking them up over his hips. "What the fuck, Trager?" He scowled, crossing the room and shoving his brother out of the room, slamming the door shut behind him. "What do you want?"

Tig rolled his eyes. "You'll be able to get back to that gash, I just need about a half hour."

Juice's jaw set. "And it can't wait til morning?" he asked.

The Sergeant smirked, giving a shrug. "Probably could, but why do tomorrow what we can do now?" he returned.

The younger man grunted. "Typical." He ran a hand over his head and gave a sigh. "What do you need?"

Tig put an arm around Juice's shoulders, leading him down the hallway. "Need to you to dig up some dirt for me."

"I thought you had enough on Shelby," the Hispanic pointed out.

Tig shook his head. "Ain't about her."

"I'm not some P.I., Tig," Juice replied as they made their way into another room. "And even if I was, I'm not here at your personal disposal."

The older man gave a grin. "I outrank you, man, and all I'm asking for is a favor."

Juice shook his head. "Best I can do is offer you some time tomorrow."

Tig rolled his eyes. "Fine, whatever, go fall into some pussy. I'll figure it out."

The young biker didn't wait for his counterpart to change his mind, exiting the room quickly and pulling the door shut behind him. Tig let out a huff before taking a seat on the bed behind him, running a hand through his curls. His mouth twitched as he tried to place where he'd seen the earlier stranger.

The man's appearance had bothered him more than he cared to admit. He'd stayed quiet on the drive back to the clubhouse, but it wasn't like any of the others had offered much in conversation. They all seemed to be stuck in their own thoughts, giving Tig good analytical company.

He rubbed his hands over his face, letting his fingers drag down his cheeks, his beard tickling the pads of his fingers. As he dropped his hands to his thighs, his gaze settled on the manila folder settled on the nightstand. He reached out and snatched it off, spreading it open on his lap, skimming the information that he had sifted through a handful of times already.

Shelby's bruised and battered face stared up at him from the picture clipped to the folder. He scanned the police report and the doctor's note, feeling like there was some sort of clue, something that could tell him what he couldn't for the life of him place.


	22. Pretty Thing

**Author's Note:** Took less than a month this time! Ha. Hello again, friends. The main thing I have to say about this chapter is FINALLY! You'll catch on pretty quickly what that means. I feel like this chapter is a combo of smut and "the plot thickens". I've been doing a rewatch of the series (I'm about halfway through season 5... which is always the hardest season to get through for me...) and I think that helped the muse get to work. But you want to get onto the good stuff so, as always, thank you to anyone who's reading/reviewing/faving... You're the reason I manage to keep eventually posting. HUGE thank yous and kisses to **OntheWildside **(I think your new chapter gave me an extra push!), **TorchwoodAngel2788,** **angelicedg, Valerie E. Mackin, liferscove2118**. I appreciate your kind words more than you know and I'm so glad you're enjoying this journey with me!

This chapter contains smut. If you don't like it... well, how did you manage to watch SoA if you don't like smut...?

This is unbetaed... All mistakes are my own.

**Disclaimer: **I have no claim to SOA, Opie, Tig, etc. Those rights belong to Kurt Sutter, Ryan Hurst, Kim Coates, etc. But thank you to them for bringing them to my life, ha. 'Madness' belongs to Muse, 'Pretty Thing' belongs to Broods. All I can truly lay claim to is Shelby and Amber

'_**Lost in love with you it's a pretty thing… a pretty thing… Lost in love with me could be what you need… what you need...'**_

Shelby woke with a start, looking around wildly as she tried to place where she was. The room was unfamiliar, but when she took a deep breath, she quickly recognized the scent tangled in the bedclothes.

"Opie," she thought to herself, carefully laying back down and curling into the pillow. The mixed perfume of cigarettes, leather, and the spice of aftershave washed over her as she snuggled deeper into the spot. Her gaze moved to the bathroom door as the sound of the shower cut out followed by the drag of the curtain.

The door opened and the man in question stepped out from a cloud of steam, tying a towel low on his narrow hips. His hair hung dripping over his shoulders, trails of water running down his torso. The brunette swallowed, her green eyes taking in every inch of him, her fingers digging into the pillow beneath her head.

The biker glanced up, a flush over his cheeks when he realized she was watching him. "You're awake," he murmured, his eyes meeting hers. "How you feeling?"

The brunette shrugged, slowly sitting up in the bed. "Been worse," she replied. She bit her lower lip as she wrung the sheet in her hands. "I'm sorry I just passed out… you could've made me go back to Amber's, called her to come pick me up..."

He shook his head, sitting on the edge of the bed. "Wasn't going to let you leave like that," he told her, reaching out to rest his hand on her covered knee. "It was a lot."

Shelby glanced at his hand, noting the tan lines on his fingers from the heavy rings he tended to favor. "Still… I didn't mean to inconvenience you or anything…"

"Hey."

She glanced up, meeting Opie's gaze. "You could never be an inconvenience to me, alright?" he replied, giving her knee a squeeze. "I like having you here."

She flushed at his quiet confession, lowering her gaze. "Well, if nothing else, I'm sorry I took your bed," she replied, still trying for an apology.

Opie left out a humorless chuckle. "You didn't."

Shelby glanced up, confusion in her expression. "This isn't your room?"

He cleared his throat. "What I meant is that I've been sleeping on the couch since…" He trailed off, lifting his shoulders in a shrug.

"Oh…" Silence fell between, letting the truth hang in the air. "Sorry-"

Opie moved his hand to cover her mouth, cutting off another unnecessary apology. "You have absolutely _nothing _to apologize for," he told her. "Do you think I would let you be here if I didn't want you to be?"

The warmth of his hand over her mouth seemed to almost burn, sending waves of heat through her bloodstream. Slowly, he lowered his hand, his palm skimming the path of her body, settling on her hip. Their eyes locked, speaking volumes even as they both stayed quiet, taking the other in. His fingers gently pressed into her side, seeming to pull her closer as their lips met, neither quite sure how the gap between them had managed to close.

His lips were warm and firm over hers, the hair of his beard tickling her chin. She sighed into the kiss, her body sagging towards him. A shiver ran through her as droplets of water soaked through the thin fabric of her shirt. She moved a hand to his hair, her fingers tangling in the soaked strands, streams of water coursing down her arm as she squeezed.

Opie gently pulled, moving her onto his lap, letting out a grunt as the movement dragged the towel over his cock. His fingers kneaded the soft skin of her hips as she undulated against him. He skimmed his hands up the smooth expanse of her back, savoring the feeling against his palms as he kissed her deeper, his tongue rolling against hers.

"You okay?" he whispered, pulling back a touch when he felt another shudder run through her. He ran his fingers through her chocolate strands of hair, savoring the silkiness against his skin.

Shelby swallowed and slowly opened her eyes, her breath hitching as their gazes locked. She moved her hand, letting her knuckles gently glide over his jawline. "I'm perfect," she murmured, leaning in to press her lips back to his.

Opie shifted, holding her body to his as he moved to lay her down on the bed, his body blanketing hers. He couldn't get enough of her taste on his tongue, her mouth smoky and sweet against his, her lips like velvet. He moved a hand back under her top, his fingers gliding over her ribcage.

The brunette let out a giggle against his lips, making him pull back again. She blinked up at him, her lips curved in a smile. "Tickles," she told him, her fingers tangling in the still wet strands of his hair.

He smiled down at her as he flexed his fingers again, letting the tips of the digits glide over her stomach. "Ticklish?"

She threw her head back with a laugh, her hands moving to his biceps and squeezing. "Opie, stop," she said, her voice breathless as she tried to squirm away.

He gave a chuckle, flattening his palm on her stomach. "Okay, okay," he soothed, his hand gliding to let the tips of his fingers ghost along the curve of her breast.

Shelby bit her lip, her eyes locking on his. She swallowed as he watched her intently, his hand closing over her breast, her nipple cutting into his palm as she arched into his touch. She left out a sigh as he pressed his lips to her neck, her eyes fluttering closed as he massaged her, his mouth sucking at her skin.

The biker let out a grunt as he felt her hand against his cock through the towel, giving him a gentle tug. "Gettin' fresh?" he asked, his voice a growl.

The brunette nipped at his ear, a soft moan escaping her as he gave her nipple a pinch. "You started it, Winston," she replied. She moved her hand beneath the towel, wrapping her fingers around him. "Maybe I'm just moving things along…"

Opie let out a quiet groan, rutting against her. "Ain't we a little old for this heavy petting shit?" he asked, pressing his face to her neck, cutting his teeth over her clavicle.

Shelby chuckled, giving his cock one more squeeze before sliding her hand up his torso, her fingers absently tracing over his tattoos. "Never too old for foreplay," she replied.

He pressed a kiss to her neck before sitting up, taking the time to move his gaze over her, taking in every inch of her beneath him. His eyes stayed on hers as he slowly pushed her shirt up her torso. His gaze flashed to her breasts as she finished the shirt's path, pulling it over her head and tossing it to the side. "Shit," he breathed.

"What?" Shelby asked, her fingers deftly untying the loose knot of his towel, letting the terry fall from his hips.

He smoothed his hand up the valley between her breasts, letting his palm stop to cup her cheek. "You're beautiful," he replied, rubbing his thumb over her lower lip.

She pursed her lips, pressing a kiss to the pad of the digit before reaching up and pulling him down. "Make love to me, Op," she whispered, arching her hips into his.

Opie went rigid over her, freezing in place at her words. He shook his head, moving to push himself off of her. The way she breathed the words, her hair spread over the pillow… she looked too much like Donna… in that moment, Donna was all he could see.

"Opie, what…" Shelby's words died on her tongue as realization washed over her. "Shit," she muttered as he slid off the bed, wrapping the towel back around his waist. She rubbed her hands over her face before sitting up. She couldn't help the frustration that settled over her. She understood Opie's sadness, the reason that he seemed to push her away any time she seemed to make any sort of progress with him, but the fact of the matter was that Donna was _dead_. She wasn't coming back. How did her older sister _still_ manage to get in the way?

Opie ran a hand through his hair, leaning back against his dresser. He wanted Shelby. Even with Donna's image at the forefront of his brain, he knew that he wanted to be with Shelby. "I can't do this here," he muttered, rubbing a hand over his beard.

The brunette left out a sigh and slid off the mattress, grabbing her discarded shirt off the floor. "I get it, I'll go," she replied, refusing to look at him.

He shook his head, crossing the room and gently grabbing her arm, turning her to face him. "I can't do this _here_," he repeated, trying to make her understand.

Shelby blinked up at him, the shirt still held tight in her grasp. "But I thought…"

Opie shook his head, giving her a reassuring smile as he walked backwards, pulling her with him. "Just need a change of location," he explained as they left the bedroom, heading towards the guest room down the hall.

* * *

><p>"Clay, you gotta minute?"<p>

The president nodded, glancing at Juice as he walked to the door. "Shut that for us, will ya?" he asked the Puerto Rican.

Tig tapped his fingers on the scuffed wood of the table, his eyes fixed on the scythe clutched tight in the reaper's hand. He tried to formulate the words, figure out exactly what he wanted to say as the door to the chapel clicked shut. He knew that Clay would be pissed. It didn't matter that yesterday had been out of his hands. He couldn't control Opie, he couldn't get a handle on Jax… and the mystery of this 'Mutton' character… how could he control what he hadn't even predicted?

"What's the problem?" Clay asked after several beats of silence, breaking through Tig's thoughts, making the man jump at the intrusion. "You miss me or something?"

The Sergeant scoffed. "Just thought we should talk."

The lighter man scowled, pulling a cigar from his cut. "I ask again, what's the problem?" He snipped the end of his smoke and lit it, taking a deep inhale. "Something I need to know about yesterday?" He blew out a cloud of smoke.

Tig leaned back in his chair, resting his palm on the table top. "The hit went okay," he replied. "Opie shot him dead, I think we're in the clear."

Clay's scowl deepened. "I need better than _think_, Tiggy," he snarled. "Can't risk a blowback with this one." He slapped his own palm on the table. "I need you to tell me we're good, it's why you sit in that damn chair."

Tig left out a puff of air, nodding slowly. "Yeah, I know," he replied. "I'll take care of it. Be sure that we're perfect."

"What's the problem? You should have made sure all loose ends were taken care of _yesterday, _all I should be hearin' about today is that you got shit done."

Tig grit his teeth. "We got caught," he admitted. "I don't know how, but they saw it."

"_Who_?" Clay growled. "And how were you not more careful with this? I need to rip that patch off?" He pointed at the Sergeant At Arms patch on Tig's chest.

The darker man shook his head. "He came out of nowhere, brother. Said he was in the area."

The president sneered. "I don't care what you have to do, you make sure that son of a bitch doesn't talk." He shook his head. "Bad enough that the little prince is holding his own card with this."

Tig nodded. "I'll take care of it," he promised.

"I'm counting on you, Tig," Clay continued. "We need this to be buried with Donna. _SAMCRO_ needs this."

* * *

><p>Shelby bit her lower lip as fingers hooked in the sides of her panties, dragging them down the path of her legs. Her thighs parted as Opie tossed the scrap of cotton and lace over his shoulder. She let out a soft moan as his palms traveled up her calves and over her knees.<p>

He could smell her arousal in the air, making his mouth water. He pulled her closer, draping her legs over his shoulders. He glanced up, meeting her gaze as he settled between her legs, parting her with the fingers of one hand. "You okay?" he asked, lightly dragging the tip of his finger over her clit.

She couldn't the whimper that escaped. "Stop teasing," she breathed.

Opie chuckled, leaning into drag his tongue over the path his finger had just taken. "You taste so good," he murmured. He sucked her clit into his mouth, making her cry out as he lashed his tongue over her.

"Oh, God," she moaned, her fingers digging into the pillow beneath her head. Her thighs shook before tightening around his ears, her other hand moving to the back of the head between her legs. She let out a moan as a thick digit pressed into her, Opie's tongue swirling over her bud before sucking her labia into his mouth.

The biker hooked his finger and gave a quick swipe of the tongue before lifting his head, slowly moving his finger in and out, savoring how wet she was for him. "What do you want, baby?" he murmured, pressing a kiss to her thigh.

Shelby bit her lower lip, her hand moving to his beard and pulling him up her torso. She pressed his mouth to hers, moaning at her taste on his lips. "Fuck me, Opie," she muttered, nipping his lower lip and letting out a cry as he slipped another finger inside her. "Please…"

He slid his fingers out of her, moving to rest on his elbows, his body over hers. He kissed her, his mouth sealed over hers as he reached down, grabbing the base of his cock and slowly sinking into her, groaning as he sunk into her deep wet heat.

The brunette cried out as he filled her, stretching her around his cock. She dug her nails into his back, cutting into the skin of his back. He surrounded her with his scent, his body… She felt him everywhere. As his cock slowly moved in and out, she couldn't help but whimper, dragging her nails down his spine.

She was so tight and it felt so good to be with a woman again. The fact that it was Shelby, it felt like a piece that he hadn't even known was missing clicked back into place. Opie kissed her, swallowing her cries as he picked up speed, moving in and out of her, seeming to go deeper on each pass. He dug his fingers into her hips, moving her to meet him with each thrust.

"Harder, Opie," she moaned, throwing her head back. She felt like she was losing her mind, falling off the edge as he fucked her into the mattress.

Opie groaned at her words, his dick seeming to grow impossibly harder. He rolled to his back, moving her on top of him, not breaking stride. "Show me what you want, Shel," he growled, his hands holding her hips, moving her to meet him.

Shelby pressed her palms to his chest, moving up and down, the sound of their pants and skin slapping against skin filling the room. She could feel they were both close, so close she could taste it. She moved a hand to rub over her clit, to push herself just a little further.

He saw the path her hand was taking and before she reached her destination, his own hand was there, his thumb rubbing circles over her. He felt the way she pulsed around him and all he wanted was to feel when she fell apart. "You goin' to come for me, Shelby?"

She cried out at his words, feeling herself explode. "Oh God," she moaned as he rolled again, chasing to meet her as they both felt the orgasm move through her.

* * *

><p>Tig sat at the bar, Shelby's file open in front of him. He couldn't help but believe that the secret to Mutton was hidden somewhere in the papers that Juice had put together for him.<p>

"Studyin' up?"

The Sergeant glanced to his right as Chibs slid onto the stool beside him, gesturing for the prospect to bring him a beer. He carefully closed the manila folder, resting his elbow on top of it. "Something you need, Chibby?"

The Scot took a pull from his beer before giving his brother a grin. "Just wonderin' what's got ya so enraptured there," he replied, knocking a knuckle against the corner. "Ain't never seen ya so intent on somethin' that didn't have a set o' tits on it."

Tig chuckled and shook his head. "Nothing you need to concern yourself with," he assured the man. He slipped the file off the bar, tucking it into his cut. "I should be getting over to the shop anyway."

Chibs reached up, sliding his sunglasses down his nose to peer at Tig. "Ya hidin' somethin'?" he asked.

The older man scoffed. "Unless I'm dippin' my prick in you, Scottie, you don't have any reason to be grilling me about my shit." He moved off his stool, pressing his middle finger into the center of Chibs' chest. "Stay out of my business, alright?"

The Scot narrowed his eyes, wrapping a hand around Tig's bicep, holding him in place. "Ya threatenin' me with somethin', Trager?" he snarled.

Tig shoved him off, almost pushing him off the stool. "I'm just sick of you thinking I need you monitoring me these days-"

"There a problem in here, boys?"

The two glanced at the doorway of the clubhouse to see Gemma standing with a hand on her hip and an eyebrow raised. Chibs gave Tig once more once over before standing and taking another swig of his beer, slamming it back down on the bar. "No, no problem here, mother," he muttered, shoving himself away from the bar and walking out of the clubhouse.

Tig watched him go, his fists clenched, his nostrils flaring. "Fuckin' prick," he muttered, knocking the beer bottle off the bar with a crash.

"What's going on, baby?" Gemma asked, her heels clicking as she crossed the room.

He shook his head, glancing at her. "Just the two of us not seeing eye to eye these days," he assured her. "Nothing for you to worry about." He wrapped an arm around her shoulders, giving her a side hug.

Gemma gave him a skeptical look. "Seemed like a little more than that," she pushed. "The two of you don't tend to clash like this."

Tig gave her a grin. "You're trying to make this something it's not, Gem," he replied. "Promise I'm not holding out on you. Just us guys buttin' heads, no big deal."

"It has something to do with that gash, doesn't it?" she asked, venom dripping from her tone.

The Sergeant chuckled. "Need you to be more specific with that term," he joked.

She narrowed her eyes at him. "You know exactly who I mean," she replied. "That little bitch ain't nothing but trouble anytime she-"

Tig shook his head. "Whoa, Gem, calm down, alright? Has nothing to do with her." He pressed a kiss to her temple. "Everything's fine alright?" He didn't wait for a response before giving her one last squeeze and letting her go. "I need to get to work, I'll see you later."

Gemma watched him walk out of the clubhouse, her arms crossed tightly over her chest. She didn't buy his innocence act. Not for a second. She'd found the disarray of her bathroom from the dinner party the other night and it didn't take a genius to figure out who had been been in there and what they'd been doing. Combine that with Tig's constant distraction, it was clear that little tart had managed to worm her way into at least two of her boys radar.

"I never like when you get that look…"

The matriarch looked up to see Clay walking towards her. "What look?"

Her husband chuckled, grabbing her hand and lifting it to his mouth. "The look that makes it seem as though smoke should be coming out of your ears," he replied, pressing a kiss to her palm and pulling her close. "What's going on, my love?"

Gemma frowned. "We need to get rid of Shelby," she told him quietly.

Clay raised an eyebrow. "Seems a little dramatic," he commented. "I get that you don't like her-"

She sneered. "This isn't about dislike," she retorted. "That little bitch is already causing trouble and I don't want to see what kind of damage is in store if we don't take care of it." She let out a huff. "I don't need her screwing with my family."

"What are you talking about, baby?" he pressed, rubbing his hand up and down her back.

"You haven't noticed what she's doing with Opie and Tig?" Gemma asked, a note of disbelief in her tone. "Winding them all up, scattering them…"

Clay frowned. "What are you talking about with Tig? She's messing with Opie, I know that, but it's good that he's distracted right now-"

"Come on, Clay," she cut him off. "You can't tell me that you haven't noticed how off Tig is and just now I come in with him about to come to blows with Chibs…"

"And that was about Shelby?" he asked.

"He said it wasn't but-"

Clay cut her off with a kiss, resting a hand on her cheek. "Don't get so worked up about her, Gem," he soothed, pressing another kiss to her mouth. "If I find out she's making trouble in my town, my club? I'll take care of it."

Gemma sighed, pressing her cheek into his palm. "Promise?"

He gave her a smile and wrapped his arms around her waist. "You have my word."


End file.
